THE 


WHISTLER  BOOK, 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF 
CALIFORNIA 

SAN  DIEGO 


THE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  SAN  DIEGO 

LA  JOLLA,  CALIFORNIA 


237 


THE  WHISTLER  BOOK 


WORKS  OF 

SADAKICHI  HARTMANN 


Shakespeare  in  Art  .        •        $2.00 

Japanese  Art  ....  2.00 
The  Whistler  Book  .  .  2.50 
A  History  of  American  Art.  2  vols.  4.00 


L.  C  PAGE  &  COMPANY 
53  BEACON  ST.,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


2/1  fl& 


^  Monograph  of  the  Life  and  'Position  in 
Jlri  of  James  McNeill  Whistler,  together  with 
a  Careful  Study  of  his  more  Important  Works 


BY 

SADAKICHI  HARTMANN 

Author  of  "  A  History  of  American  Art,"  "  Japanese  Art,"  etc. 


HJilh  fiftg-BPuru  rF^ruiUtrtunis  of  fHr.  2Ihiellrr'a 
must  important  morka 


L.    C,    PAGE    &    COMPANY 
BOSTON    *    *    *    MDCCCCX 


Copyright,  1910, 
BY  L.  C.  PAGE  &  COMPANY. 

(INCORPORATED) 
Entered  at  Stationer's  Hall,  London 

All  rights  reserved 


First  Impression,  October,  1910 


Electrotyped  and  Printed  by 
TUB  COLONIAL  PRESS 
C.  H.  Simonds  &  Co.,  Boston,  U.S.A. 


TO 

THOSE  PAINTERS 

UPON   WHOSE    SHOULDERS 

THE  BLACK  MANTLE  OF 

WHISTLER'S   MUSE 

MAY  FALL 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTEB  PAGE 

I.    INTRODUCTORY  —  WHITE  CHRYSANTHEMUMS  .       .  1 
II.    QUARTIER  LATIN  AND  CHELSEA       ...       .5 

III.    THE  BUTTERFLY 39 

IV.    THE  ART  OP  OMISSION       ......  58 

V.     ON  LIGHT  AND  TONE  PROBLEMS      ....  81 

VI.    SYMPHONIES  IN  INTERIOR  DECORATION  .       .       .100 

VII.    VISIONS  AND  IDENTIFICATIONS 121 

VIII.     IN  QUEST  OF  LINE  EXPRESSION      ....  147 

IX.     MOSS-LIKE  GRADATIONS 168 

X.    WHISTLER'S  ICONOCLASM 182 

XI.    As  His  FRIENDS  KNEW  HIM 209 

XII.    THE  STORY  OF  THE  BEAUTIFUL       ....  233 

BIBLIOGRAPHY      .        .        .       - 253 

PRINCIPAL  MAGAZINE  ARTICLES       ....  259 

PRINCIPAL  PAINTINGS 262 

NOCTURNES 265 

INDEX    ,  267 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

PORTRAIT  OF  JAMES  McNEiLL  WHISTLER,  BY  BOLDINI  (See 

page  230)     .         .         .        .        .        .        .      Frontispiece 

THE  SELF  PORTRAIT  OF  1859 8 

PEN  AND  INK  SKETCH,  MADE  AT  WEST  POINT  .  .  .  11 
DRAWING  MADE  FOR  THE  UNITED  STATES  COAST  AND 

GEODETIC  SURVEY 12 

PORTRAIT  SKETCH  OF  FANTIN-LATOUR  .  .  .  .  14 
"  HOMMAGE  A  DELACROIX,"  BY  FANTIN-LATOUR  .  .  17 
THE  WOMAN  IN  WHITE .  19 

Owned  by  John  H.  Whittemore. 
ARRANGEMENT  IN  BLACK:  F.  R.  LEYLAND         ,:       t       .       22 

National  Gallery,  Washington. 

Jo  (ETCHING)     ...» 28 

WAPPING  WHARF  (ETCHING)  .  .  .  .  »  »  ,36 
HARMONY  IN  GREEN  AND  ROSE:  THE  Music  ROOM  .  44 

Owned  by  Frank  J.  Hecker. 
LANGE  LEIZEN  OF  THE  Six  MARKS:    PURPLE  AND  ROSE     .       49 

Owned  by  John  G.  Johnson. 
THE  PRINCESS  OF  THE  PORCELAIN  LAND    ...»       50 

National  Gallery,  Washington. 
SYMPHONY  IN  WHITE,  II:    THE  LITTLE  WHITE  GIRL         .       53 

Owned  by  Arthur  Studd. 
ON  THE  BALCONY:     VARIATIONS  IN  FLESH-COLOUR  AND 

GREEN          .       .       .       ..       .       ,       .       .       .       54 

National  Gallery,  Washington. 

NOCTURNE  IN  BLACK  AND  GOLD:  THE  FALLING  ROCKET   .       58 

Owned  by  Mrs.  Samuel  Untermyer. 
NOCTURNE  IN  BLUE  AND  GOLD:    OLD  BATTERSEA  BRIDGE      67 

Tote  Gallery,  London. 

yii 


viii  List  of  Illustrations 

PAGE 

NOCTURNE  IN  GRAY  AND  GOLD:     CHELSEA,  SNOW    .       .       70 

NOCTURNE  IN  BLUE  AND  SILVER 74 

LADY  IN  GRAY 83 

Courtesy  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum,  New  York. 
"  L'ANDALUSIENNE  " 86 

Owned  by  John  H.  Whittemore. 
SIR  HENRY  IRVING  AS  PHILIP  II 90 

Courtesy  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum,  New  York. 
ARRANGEMENT  IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE:    LADY  MEUX  (No.  1)       94 
ARRANGEMENT  IN  BLACK:     SENOR  PABLO  SARASATE        .       97 

Carnegie  Art  Institute,  Pittsburg. 

SHUTTER  DECORATION,  PEACOCK  ROOM       .       .       .       .104 
ARRANGEMENT  IN  GRAY  AND  GREEN:    Miss  ALEXANDER  .     109 

EAGLE  WHARF  (ETCHING) 118 

AT  THE  PIANO 122 

ARRANGEMENT  IN  BLACK  AND  BROWN:    Miss  ROSE  CORDER     128 

Owned  by  Richard  A.  Canfield. 
ARRANGEMENT  IN  BLACK:     LADY  ARCHIBALD  CAMPBELL 

(THE  YELLOW  BUSKIN) 137 

Wilstach  Gallery,  Philadelphia. 
ARRANGEMENT  IN  BLACK  AND  GOLD:    COMTE  DE  MONTES- 

QUIOU 142 

Owned  by  Richard  A.  Canfield. 
ARRANGEMENT  IN  BLACK  AND  GRAY:    THOMAS  CARLYLE   .     144 

City  Art  Gallery,  Glasgow. 
ARRANGEMENT   IN    BLACK   AND    GRAY:     THE    ARTIST'S 

MOTHER 146 

Luxembourg  Gallery,  Paris. 
"  LA  VlEILLE  AUX  LOQUES  "  (ETCHING)     ....     149 

STREET  IN  SAVERNE  (ETCHING) 150 

PORTRAIT  OF  DROUET  (ETCHING) 153 

BLACK  LION  WHARF  (ETCHING) 154 

WAPPING,  ON  THE  THAMES  (ETCHING)        ....     160 


List  of  Illustrations 


IX 


PAGE 

OLD  HUNGERFORD  BRIDGE  (ETCHING)         .       .       .       .162 

THE  SILENT  CANAL  (ETCHING) 164 

VIEW  OP  AMSTERDAM  (ETCHING) 166 

NOCTURNE  (LITHOGRAPH) 170 

LITTLE  ROSE  OP  LYME  REGIS 175 

Boston  Museum  of  Fine  Arts. 

STUDY  OP  NUDE  FIGURE  (CHALK  DRAWING)      .       .       .176 

PASTEL  STUDY 178 

Owned  by  Th.  R.  Way. 

ARCHWAY,  VENICE  (PASTEL) 182 

Owned  by  Howard  Mansfield. 

THE  JAPANESE  DRESS  (PASTEL) 186 

Owned  by  Howard  Mansfield. 

MR.  KENNEDY:     PORTRAIT  STUDY 192 

Courtesy  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum,  New  York. 

THE  LIME  BURNER  (ETCHING) 198 

PORTRAIT  OF  STEPHANE  MALLARME  (LITHOGRAPH)   .       .  209 
ARRANGEMENT  IN  FLESH-COLOUR  AND  BLACK:    THEODORE 

DURET 214 

THE  UNSAFE  TENEMENT  (ETCHING) 220 

IN  THE  SUNSHINE  (ETCHING) 226 

THE  POOL  (ETCHING) 232 

ARRANGEMENT  IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE:    "  L'AMERICAINE  "  238 

THE  FIDDLER  (ETCHING) 246 

NOCTURNE    IN    BROWN    AND    SILVER:      OLD    BATTERSEA 

BRIDGE  248 


Jjtatler 


CHAPTER  I.  —  INTRODUCTORY 

WHITE   CHRYSANTHEMUMS1 

THE  white  chrysanthemum  is  my  favourite 
flower.  There  are  other  flowers,  I  grant,  per- 
haps more  beautiful,  which  I  cannot  help  ad- 
miring, but  the  white  chrysanthemum  some- 
how appeals  to  me  more  than  any  other  flower. 
Why?  That  is  more  than  I  can  tell.  The  un- 
conscious movements  of  our  soul  activity  can- 
not be  turned  into  sodden  prose.  What  would 
be  the  use  of  having  a  favourite  flower  if  one 
could  give  any  reason  for  liking  it?  It  merely 
reveals  that  part  of  our  personality,  not  to  be 
logically  explained,  which  rises  within  us  like 
the  reminiscences  of  some  former  soul  exist- 
ence. There  are  colours  and  certain  sounds 

1  Published  originally  in  "  Camera  Work,"  1903. 

1 


The  Whistler  Book 


and  odours  which  effect  me  similarly.  When- 
ever I  gaze  at  a  white  chrysanthemum,  my 
mind  becomes  conscious  of  something  which 
concerns  my  life  alone;  something  which  I 
would  like  to  express  in  my  art,  but  which  I 
shall  never  be  able  to  realize,  at  least  not  in  the 
vague  and,  at  the  same  time,  convincing  man- 
ner the  flower  conveys  it  to  me.  I  am  also 
fond  of  displaying  it  occasionally  in  my  but- 
tonhole ;  not  for  effect,  however,  but  simply  be- 
cause I  want  other  people  to  know  who  I  am; 
for  those  human  beings  who  are  sensitive  to 
the  charms  of  the  chrysanthemum,  must  hail 
from  the  same  country  in  which  my  soul  abides, 
and  I  should  like  to  meet  them.  I  should 
not  have  much  to  say  to  them  —  souls  are  not 
talkative  —  but  we  should  make  curtsies,  and 
hand  white  chrysanthemums  to  one  another. 

Whistler  was  busy  all  his  life  painting  just 
such  white  chrysanthemums.  You  smile? 
Well,  I  think  I  can  persuade  you  to  accept 
my  point  of  view. 

You  are  probably  aware  that  Whistler  was 
opposed  to  realism.  The  realists  endorse 
every  faithful  reproduction  of  facts.  Also, 
Whistler  believed  all  objects  beautiful,  but 
only  under  certain  conditions,  at  certain 
favoured  moments.  It  is  at  long  intervals 
and  on  rare  occasions  that  nature  and  human 


White  Chrysanthemums 


life  reveal  their  highest  beauty.  It  was 
Whistler's  life-long  endeavour  to  fix  such 
supreme  and  happy  moments,  the  white  chrys- 
anthemums of  his  aesthetic  creed,  upon  his  can- 
vases. Have  you  never  seen  a  country  lass 
and  thought  she  should  be  dressed  up  as  a 
page  —  her  limbs  have  such  a  lyrical  twist,  as 
George  Meredith  would  say  —  she  should 
stand  on  the  steps  of  a  throne,  and  the  hall 
should  be  illuminated  with  a  thousand  candles? 
Have  you  never  met  a  New  England  girl,  and 
thought  that  she  was  ill-suited  to  her  present 
surroundings,  that  she  would  look  well  only 
standing  on  the  porch  of  some  old  Colonial 
mansion,  in  the  evening,  when  odours  of  the 
pelargoniums  and  gladioli  begin  to  fill  the 
garden?  Have  you  not  noticed  that  a  bunch 
of  cut  flowers  which  looks  beautiful  in  one  vase 
may  become  ugly  in  another?  And  how  often 
has  it  not  happened  to  all  of  us  that  we  were 
startled  by  a  sudden  revelation  of  beauty  in  a 
person  whom  we  have  known  for  years  and 
who  has  looked  rather  commonplace  to  us? 
Suddenly,  through  some  expression  of  grief  or 
joy,  or  merely  through  a  passing  light  or 
shadow,  all  the  hidden  beauty  bursts  to  the  sur- 
face and  surprises  us  with  its  fugitive  charms. 
Whistler's  "At  the  Piano,"  "The  Yellow 
Buskin,"  "  Old  Battersea  Bridge,"  "  Chelsea: 


The  Whistler  Book 


Snow,"  are  painted  in  that  way.  Could 
you  imagine  his  "  Yellow  Buskin  Lady  "  in 
any  other  way  than  buttoning  her  gloves,  and 
glancing  back,  for  a  last  time,  over  her 
shoulder,  as  she  is  walking  away  from  you  into 
grey  distances!  That  peculiar  turn  of  her 
body  reveals  the  quintessence  of  her  beauty. 
And  that  is  the  reason  why  Whistler  has 
painted  her  in  that  attitude.  Thus  every  ob- 
ject has  its  moment  of  supreme  beauty.  In 
life  these  moments  are  as  fugitive  as  the  frac- 
tions of  a  second.  Through  art  they  can 
become  a  permanent  and  lasting  enjoyment. 

The  ancient  Greek  believed  in  an  ideal 
standard  of  beauty  to  which  the  whole  universe 
had  to  conform.  The  modern  artist,  on  the 
other  hand,  sees  beauty  only  in  such  moments 
as  are  entirely  individual  to  the  forms  and  con- 
ditions of  life  he  desires  to  portray.  And  as  it 
pains  him  that  his  conception  of  beauty  will 
die  with  him,  he  becomes  an  artist  through  the 
very  endeavour  of  preserving  at  least  a  few 
fragments  of  it  for  his  fellow-men.  With 
Whistler,  this  conception  was  largely  a  sense 
for  tone,  a  realization  of  some  dream  in  black 
and  silvery  grey,  in  pale  gold  or  greenish  blues. 
A  vague  flare  of  colour  in  some  dark  tonality 
was,  to  him,  the  island  in  the  desert  which  he 
had  to  seek,  unable  to  rest  until  he  had  found 


White  Chrysanthemums 


it.  He  saw  life  in  visions,  and  his  subjects 
were  merely  means  to  express  them.  In  his 
"  Lady  Archibald  Campbell "  he  cared  more 
for  black  and  grey  gradations  and  the  yellow 
note  of  the  buskin  than  for  the  fair  sitter. 
The  figure  is,  so  to  speak,  invented  in  the 
character  of  the  colour  arrangement.  Whis- 
tler once  said  he  would  like  best  to  paint 
for  an  audience  that  could  dispense  with  the 
representation  of  objects  and  figures,  with  all 
pictorial  actualities,  and  be  satisfied  solely  with 
the  music  of  colour. 

And  why  should  we  not  profit  by  his  lesson, 
and  learn  to  look  at  pictures  as  we  look  at  the 
flush  of  the  evening  sky,  at  a  passing  cloud,  at 
the  vision  of  a  beautiful  woman,  or  at  a  white 
chrysanthemum ! 


CHAPTER    II 

QUARTIER  LATIN   AND   CHELSEA 

DURING  Jean  Francois  Raffaelli's  sojourn 
in  America  I  had  occasion  to  ask  him  the  rather 
futile  question  of  how  long  it  took  a  painter 
in  Paris  to  become  famous.  Of  course  I  re- 
ferred to  a  man  of  superior  abilities,  and  meant 
by  fame  an  international  reputation.  He  an- 
swered twenty  years  at  least,  and  I  replied  that 
about  twenty  years  more  would  be  needed  in 
America. 

Whistler  had  a  long  time  to  wait  before 
fame  knocked'  at  his  door,  although  he  had  a 
local  reputation  in  London  and  Paris  at  forty. 
He  was  known  as  a  man  of  curious  ways, 
and  an  excellent  etcher;  but,  with  the  .excep- 
tion of  two  medals,  he  had  received  no  honours 
whatever  for  his  paintings.  His  work  still 
impressed  by  its  novelty;  but  he  had  not  yet 
captivated  the  public.  He  still  had  to  fight 
for  recognition,  and,  as  long  as  a  man  has  to 
do  that,  he  is  neither  a  popular  nor  a  success- 
ful man. 

6 


Quartier  Latin  and  Chelsea  7 

Toward  the  middle  of  the  seventies  recog- 
nition appeared  to  come  more  readily.  He 
seemed  to  know  everybody  of  note,  and  every- 
kpdy  seemed  to  know  him.  His  writings  and 
controversies  attracted  considerable  attention, 
Kis  supremacy  as  an  etcher  had  been  admitted, 
and.  his  pictures  became  more  widely  known. 
He  had  gathered  around  him  a  number  of 
wealthy  patrons,  who  were  connoisseurs  and 
keen  appreciators  of  his  talents.  He  was  so 
successful  financially  in  the  latter  part  of  his 
life  that  he  had  residences  and  studios  in  Paris 
as  wrell  as  in  London.  At  Paris  his  head- 
quarters were  in  the  rue  du  Bac.  In  London 
he  had  various  quarters,  —  on  Fulham  Road, 
Tite  Street,  Langham  Street,  Alderney 
Street,  St.  Regents  Street,  The  Vale,  etc. 
Going  from  one  place  to  the  other  as  his 
moods  dictated  to  him,  with  an  occasional 
sketching  trip  to  Venice,  to  Holland  or  the 
northern  parts  of  France,  he  lived  the  true 
life  of  the  artist,  quarrelled  with  his  friends, 
delighted  his  admirers  with  the  products  of  his 
fancies,  and  astounded  the  intelligent  public 
on  two  continents  with  the  caprices  of  his  tem- 
per. Strange  to  say,  even  at  that  time,  his 
best  work  had  already  left  his  easel.  He  was 
busy  with  minor,  but  not  less  interesting,  prob- 
lems and  devoted  most  of  his  time  to  etchings, 


8  The  Whistler  Book 

pastels  and  lithographs.  But  it  was  at  this 
time  that  his  "  Ten  O'clock  "  and  "  The  Gentle 
Art  of  Making  Enemies "  were  published ; 
and  when  his  "  Carlyle  "  found  its  way  to  the 
Glasgow  City  Gallery,  and  "  The  Portrait  of 
the  Artist's  Mother  "  was  purchased  by  the 
Luxembourg  Gallery  at  Paris. 

Comparatively  little  is  known  of  Whistler's 
private  life.  I  wonder  how  many  of  his  ad- 
mirers, excepting  his  personal  friends,  were 
acquainted  during  his  life-time  with  the  fact 
that  he  was  married,  and  could  tell  whom  he 
had  married.  He  remained  a  bachelor  until 
his  fifty-fourth  year,  when  he  married  the 
widow  of  his  friend  E.  W.  Godwin,  the  archi- 
tect of  the  "White  House."  She  was  the 
daughter  of  John  Bernie  Philip,  a  sculptor, 
and  was  herself  an  etcher.  They  were  married 
on  Aug.  11,  1888.  Eight  years  later  his  wife 
died,  May  10th,  1896. 

How  this  man  of  moods  and  capricious  tastes 
got  along  in  married  life  the  general  public 
has  never  found  out.  His  friends  assure  us 
that  it  was  a  happy  union  and  that  he  was 
deeply  devoted  to  his  wife.  He  has  painted 
her  repeatedly,  but  the  pictures  do  not  betray 
any  domestic  secrets  to  the  public.  Although 
Whistler  was  fond  of  notoriety,  and  managed 
to  keep  himself  continually  before  the  pub- 


THE    SELF    PORTRAIT   OF    1859. 


Quartier  Latin  and  Chelsea  9 

lie,  —  in  the  fullest  limelight,  so  to  speak,  — 
he  never  allowed  personal  news  and  the  details 
of  his  everyday  life  to  claim  the  attention  of 
the  public.  All  his  innumerable  feuds  and 
press  displays  were  related  to  his  work,  —  to 
his  completed  pictures  and  theories  of  art.  He 
liked  to  play  upon  his  personality,  but  only  as 
far  as  the  artist  was  concerned.  He  was  pe- 
culiarly free  from  the  taint  of  exploiting  his 
own  domestic  affairs.  He  hated  biographies 
and  all  references  to  his  family  life.  Even  in 
his  feuds  with  his  old  friends,  F.  R.  Leyland, 
and  his  brother-in-law,  Seymour  Haden,  when 
he  brutally  dragged  apparent  private  matters 
into  the  glare  of  publicity,  the  discriminating 
observer  will  notice  that  his  controversies,  sar- 
casms and  interpretations  refer  solely  to  "  art 
situations "  and  never  descend  to  the  low 
depths  of  personal  abuse. 

James  McNeill  Whistler  was  born  on  July 
10th  (some  say  July  llth),  1834,  at  Lowell, 
Mass.  One  of  his  ancestors,  a  Dr.  Whistler, 
is  frequently  mentioned  in  Pepys'  delicious 
diary.  He  was  baptized  James  Abbott  Whis- 
tler in  the  Church  of  St.  Anne,  at  Lowell. 
His  father,  Major  George  Washington  Whis- 
tler, was  a  civil  engineer  and,  during  the  first 
eight  years  of  James'  life,  moved  from  Lowell 
to  Stonington,  Connecticut,  thence  to  Spring- 


10  The  Whistler  Book 

field,  Massachusetts,  and,  finally,  in  1842, 
went  to  Russia  to  superintend  the  construction 
of  the  railroad  from  St.  Petersburg  to  Mos- 
cow. The  following  year  the  family  sailed 
from  Boston  to  make  their  home  in  St.  Peters- 
burg. 

This  was  the  first  impression  the  boy  Whis- 
tler received  from  the  outside  world,  and  no 
doubt  the  trip  across  the  Atlantic  and  the 
sojourn  in  a  foreign  country  made  a  lasting 
impression  upon  him.  Russia,  with  its  quaint 
old  civilization  and  touches  of  barbaric  splen- 
dour, was  the  country  to  excite  the  imagination 
of  any  boy,  and  the  change  from  a  New  Eng- 
land village  life  to  the  metropolitan  turmoil 
of  St.  Petersburg  would  have  left  imperishable 
traces  in  any  receptive  mind.  The  father  was 
paid  lavishly  and  the  boy  was  brought  up  in 
luxury. 

The  first  report  of  any  art  talent  in  the  boy 
can  be  found  in  the  reference,  mentioned  by 
several  biographers,  to  his  taking  lessons  at  the 
Imperial  Academy  of  Sciences  at  St.  Peters- 
burg. It  had  probably  no  particular  bearing 
on  his  career,  since  art  teaching  in  Russia  was 
traditional,  and  probably  consisted  of  nothing 
but  drawing  from  wooden  models  and  plaster 
casts.  It  informs  us,  however,  of  the  fact  that 
he  became  familiar  with  the  rudiments  of 


PEN    AND    INK    SKETCH,    MADE    AT    WEST    POINT. 


Quartier  Latin  and  Chelsea          ll 

drawing  at  an  early  age.  Of  by  far  greater 
importance  to  his  development  were  his  visits 
to  the  Hermitage.  There  he  saw  for  the  first 
time  Velasquez  and  he  learnt  to  differentiate 
between  painters  who  could  paint  and  such 
who  could  only  tell  a  story  in  line  and  colour. 

On  the  death  of  the  father,  April  7th,  1849, 
the  family  returned  to  the  United  States  and 
settled  in  Stonington,  Conn.,  and  young 
Whistler  attended  school  at  Pomfret,  Conn. 
In  1851,  seventeen  years  old,  he  entered  the 
United  States  Military  Academy  at  West 
Point  and  was  enrolled  as  James  MaNeill 
Whistler,  taking  his  mother's  maiden  name  as 
a  middle  name.  Like  Poe,  he  does  not  seem 
to  have  been  over-fond  of  a  routine  military 
career.  No  doubt  something  of  the  artist's 
temperament  had  awakened  in  him,  and,  like 
all  young  talents,  he  objected  to  regulated 
study,  and  tried  to  satisfy  the  vague  aspira- 
tions of  his  unsettled  consciousness  with  work 
that  was  more  congenial  to  him. 

He  left  West  Point  in  July,  1854.  The 
technical  discharge  was  "  deficiency  in  chem- 
istry," but  it  was  probably  general  unfitness 
for  a  career  of  discipline  and  exactness. 
Through  some  influence  he  received  an  ap- 
pointment in  the  drawing  division  of  the 
United  States  Coast  and  Geodetic  Survey  at 


12  The  Whistler  Book 

Washington,  D.  C.,  at  the  salary  of  $1.50  a 
day,  but  he  resigned  two  months  later.  The 
government  records  show  that  he  worked  only 
six  and  a  half  days  in  January  and  five  and 
three-quarter  days  in  February.  He  appar- 
ently had  no  taste  for  map  designing  and 
bird's-eye  views.  It  is  said  he  paid  more  atten- 
tion to  the  deliberate  drawing  of  little  trees 
and  detail  than  to  the  typographic  facts. 

His  military  career  had  come  to  an  end ;  he 
had  to  do  something  else,  and  he  felt  that  he 
had  to  become  an  artist  at  any  price.  Money 
was  not  over  abundant  in  the  Whistler  family, 
but  there  was  sufficient  to  allow  him  a  few 
years'  leisure  to  study  art  wherever  he  chose, 
and  so  he  went  to  Paris,  and  joined  the  youth- 
ful band  of  artists,  who  fought  for  modernism 
and  a  new  technique,  and  the  glory  of  the 
metier,  with  an  enthusiasm,  a  bravery  and 
devotion  that  has  rarely  been  encountered. 
There  he  lived  the  regular  student  life  for  four 
years.  He  entered  the  atelier  of  Charles 
Gleyre,  but  only  stayed  for  a  short  while.  He 
preferred  to  look  about  for  himself.  At  one 
time  he  and  young  Tissot  made  a  copy  of 
Ingres'  "  Angelique." 

Whistler  arrived  in  France  shortly  after  the 
coup  d'etat.  Paris  was  not  then  what  she  is 
to-day.  None  of  the  chain  of  boulevards 


Quartier  Latin  and  Chelsea         13 

around  the  centre  of  the  town,  not  even  the 
boulevard  of  St.  Michael,  which  became  the 
great  thoroughfare  for  artists,  were  in  exist- 
ence in  their  present  condition.  But  Whistler 
had  come  at  the  time  when  Paris  was  being 
reconstructed  into  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
cities  of  the  world,  and,  when  the  Imperial 
regime  unfolded  its  full  splendour.  Paris 
became  intoxicated  with  its  own  beauty,  and 
the  social  life  blossomed  forth  in  all  its  ele- 
gance and  frivolity. 

During  1857-58  Whistler  had  a  studio  in  the 
rue  Compagne  Premiere,  boarding  in  Madame 
Lalouette's  pension  in  the  rue  Dauphine.  For 
some  time  he  also  shared  quarters  with  Fantin- 
Latour,  who,  with  Legros,  was  his  most  inti- 
mate friend  during  his  student  years.  They 
saw  each  other  daily,  and  it  was  on  one  of  these 
occasions  that  he  made  the  humourous  sketch 
of  Latour,  depicting  him  on  a  cold  winter 
morning  seated  in  bed,  drawing,  all  dressed, 
with  a  top  hat  on  his  head. 

They  were  the  days  of  Henri  Murger's  "  La 
Vie  Boheme,"  of  bon  camaraderie j  eccentric 
days  when  every  man  sought  to  make  his  mark 
by  peculiarities  of  dress,  soft  felt  Rubens'  hats, 
velvet  cloaks  with  the  ends  thrown  over  the 
shoulders,  and  other  exotic  garments.  In  one 
exhibition,  in  sheer  audacity  of  youth,  Whis- 


14  The  Whistler  Book 

tier  appeared  dressed  in  a  Japanese  kimono. 
Think  of  a  man  in  a  kimono  in  1855 !  Whistler 
at  that  time  was  a  true  Bohemian.  His  little 
studio  was  his  workshop,  his  temple,  his  par- 
lour, his  playhouse  and  his  dormitory.  He 
frequented  the  queer,  interesting  quarters  that 
students  seek,  —  quaint  old  cafes  where  food 
was  good  as  well  as  cheap,  and  character  abun- 
dant. 

What  is  there  so  fascinating  about  the  Bohe- 
mian's life?  The  Philistine,  I  fear,  generally 
considers  him  an  eccentric,  indolent  man,  with 
no  thought  for  the  morrow,  no  notion  of  econ- 
omy, no  home  save  the  place  which  affords  him 
temporary  shelter.  He  never  stops  to  think 
that  the  Bohemians  are  the  men  who  make  our 
songs,  who  paint  our  pictures,  chisel  marvel- 
lous creations  out  of  wood  and  stone,  compose 
our  sweetest  poems  and  write  our  newspapers. 
It  is  a  grievous  mistake  to  assume  that  they 
are  merely  a  lot  of  idle,  luckless  fellows.  They 
are  men  with  brains  of  good  quality,  and 
hearts  in  the  right  place.  All  classes  and 
trades  of  men  have  burdened  the  world  with 
their  wants  and  woes.  Not  so  the  Bohemian. 
He,  too,  has  his  heartaches  and  bitter  disap- 
pointments, but  who  ever  hears  of  them?  The 
humourous  tale  over  which  you  laugh  so  heart- 
ily, recounting  the  adventures  of  a  poet  in 


;  7&&fZ*~»Z~S£i~*£ZZZ~ 

•  ,    -  -J  -«• -  -•- v7^  .-- £..> 

,       «r^«.-,.— 


PORTRAIT    SKETCH    OF    FANTIN-LATOUR. 


Quartier  Latin  and  Chelsea          15 

search  of  a  publisher,  had  the  author's  per- 
sonal experience  for  a  basis.  He  could  not 
sell  his  poems,  but  needed  bread;  so,  out  of 
his  misfortune,  he  had  good  cheer.  The  ordi- 
nary man,  rebuffed  by  fortune,  would  sit  down 
and  mourn  himself  into  illness.  The  Bohe- 
mian utilizes  these  very  reverses,  and  both  he 
and  the  world  are  the  merrier  eventually  for 
them.  He  lives  in  a  world  distinct  from  that 
of  common  men.  Talent,  love  of  comradeship, 
a  sunny  disposition  —  these  are  the  magnets 
that  will  draw  one  toward  it.  It  has  its  obli- 
gations, its  trials,  its  code  of  honour,  rigid  as 
the  most  unbending  militarism;  but  there  is 
charm  of  companionship  and  an  absence  of 
jealousies  and  pettiness  within  it  that  makes 
you  powerless  to  rid  yourself  of  its  enchant- 
ments. The  Bohemian's  life  is  apart  from 
yours,  but  why  chide  him  for  it?  He  builds 
on  the  ruins  of  no  other  man's  life,  he  feeds  on 
no  man's  scandals,  he  exults  in  no  man's  mis- 
fortunes, but  goes  on  his  way,  imbibing  the 
sweetness  of  life  from  every  flower,  and,  in 
his  own  way,  scattering  the  perfume  broad- 
cast. He  does  half  our  thinking  and  origi- 
nates two-third  of  all  the  movements  for  the 
social  reclamation  of  the  world.  He  is  no 
hypocrite  before  the  mighty,  nor  heartless  in 
the  face  of  the  unfortunate.  He  covets  no 


16  The  Whistler  Book 

man's  goods,  but  lives  his  own  quiet,  interest- 
ing, exquisite  life.  He  asks  only  a  share  of  the 
sunlight  of  life.  In  du  Maurier's  "  Trilby  " 
we  find  a  sympathetic  description  of  the  art  life 
of  that  period,  but  also  a  rather  despicable  type 
of  a  man,  "  Joe  Sibley,"  by  name,  who  always 
pretends  but  never  does  a  thing  and  who  was 
meant  for  a  ludicrous  satire  on  young  Whis- 
tler (a  character  which  was  eliminated  on 
Whistler's  request  from  the  second  edition). 

It  is  easy  to  draw  a  mental  picture  of  him 
as  he  looked  at  that  time.  I  see  him  studying 
in  the  Louvre,  in  a  loose  black  blouse  with  low 
turned  down  collar  and  a  soft  black  hat  on  his 
long,  slightly  curled  hair,  lost  in  wonder  before 
a  painting  by  Leonardo ;  or  strolling  along  the 
Boulevards,  cane  in  hand,  ogling  the  beautiful 
women,  and  dreaming  of  designing  some  dress 
for  the  Empress  Eugenie,  passing  by  in  an 
open  phaeton.  And  how  enthusiastic  he  got, 
no  doubt,  over  some  Japanese  print  or  Chinese 
vase  in  some  curio  shop. 

A  certain  trigness,  smartness,  acquired  very 
likely  at  West  Point  where  the  cadets  change 
their  white  duck  trousers  several  times  a  day, 
induced  him,  even  at  this  time,  to  take  special 
care  over  the  fit  of  his  coat. 

In  1859  he  went  with  several  fellow  stu- 
dents, Fantin-Latour,  Legros,  and  Ribot,  to 


Quartier  Latin  and  Chelsea          17 

Bonvin's  studio  to  work  from  the  model,  under 
the  direction  of  Courbet.  At  that  time  he  was 
interested  in  types.  He  painted  a  "  Fumette," 
a  little  grisette  of  the  Quartier  Latin,  and  the 
"  Mother  Gerard,"  who  in  her  younger  days 
had  been  a  maker  of  pretty  verses,  but,  reduced 
in  circumstances,  had  become  a  flower  vender 
at  the  Bal  Bullier.  Among  his  friends  and  as- 
sociates we  find  the  names  of  Legros,  Cordier, 
Duranty,  the  etcher  Bracquemond,  inventor  of 
the  "  pen  and  ink "  process,  de  Balleroy, 
Champfleury,  Manet  and  Baudelaire.  They 
were  all  young  men  of  talent,  plein  d'avenir. 
Fantin-Latour  made  a  group-portrait  of  them, 
including  Whistler  and  himself,  seated  and 
standing,  assembled  about  a  portrait  of  Dela- 
croix. The  canvas  was  exhibited  at  the  Salon 
of  1864  as  an  "  Hommage  a  Delacroix." 

Whistler's  step-sister  had  married  Seymour 
Haden,  the  etcher,  and  Whistler,  paying  them 
a  visit  in  1859,  stayed  in  London.  The  four 
years  in  Paris  had  matured  him,  and  he  knew 
how  to  accomplish  something  beyond  the  rou- 
tine studio  work.  In  1862  he  exhibited  for  the 
Royal  Academy.  It  was  his  "  At  the  Piano," 
which,  if  not  a  masterpiece,  is  already  a  true 
and  individual  work  of  art. 

Courbet  still  had  a  strong  hold  on  him.  He 
spent  two  summers  with  him  in  Trouville  and 


18  The  Whistler  Book 

may  have  derived  his  first  lessons  as  a  mystifica- 
teur,  which  part  he  played  so  successfully  dur- 
ing life,  from  the  French  painter,  for  Courbet 
was  a  poseur  throughout,  who  assumed  a  par- 
ticular kind  of  dress,  and  who  was  not  satisfied 
merely  with  painting  pictures  that  offended 
the  Academy  and  conventional  taste,  but  made 
a  special  effort  and  took  special  pleasure  in 
shocking  the  bourgeoisie. 

Whistler  also  made  his  first  trip  to  Holland 
during  these  years,  and  became  enchanted 
with  Rembrandt  and  Vermeer,  but  took  a 
great  dislike  to  Van  der  Heist.  In  1859-60 
youthful  efforts  of  his  had  been  refused  at  the 
Paris  Salon;  the  same  happened  again  in 
1863,  but  he  was  one  of  the  men  who  scored  a 
success  at  the  Salon  des  Refusees.  A  number 
of  talented  painters,  and  among  them  men  of 
genius  like  Manet,  Cazin,  Degas,  Harpignies, 
Vollon,  Pissaro,  Jongkind  and  Bracquemond, 
tired  of  the  cliquism  and  jury  of  the  regular 
Salon,  —  a  story  which  repeats  itself  every- 
where, —  decided  to  arrange  their  own  exhibi- 
tion. Napoleon  III,  in  his  nonchalant  way  a 
true  patron  of  art,  issued  an  order  to  arrange 
the  exhibition  of  "  revolt "  in  the  same  build- 
ing as  the  official  exhibition.  The  exhibition 
was  a  success,  and  even  the  Empress  Eugenie 
and  the  court  came  to  see  it.  This  is  really  of 


Owne  d  by  John  H.  Whittemore 

THE    WOMAN    IN    WHITE. 


Quartier  Latin  and  Chelsea          19 

no  significance,  as  nobody  bought  anything; 
but  it  sounds  well,  and  biographers  should 
never  neglect  to  mention  such  incidents. 

One  thing  is  certain:  Whistler's  picture, 
"  The  White  Girl,"  even  with  Manet's  "  De- 
jeuner sur  1'Herbe "  in  the  same  room,  at- 
tracted an  unusual  share  of  attention.  Zola, 
in  "  L'CEuvre,"  says  that  the  crowd  laughed 
in  front  of  "  La  Dame  en  Blanc."  Desnoyers 
thought  it  "  the  most  remarkable  picture,  at 
once  simple  and  fantastic  with  a  beauty  so 
peculiar  that  the  public  did  not  know  whether 
to  think  it  beautiful  or  ugly."  Paul  Mantz 
wrote  in  the  Gazette  des  Beaux- Arts  that 
it  was  the  most  important  picture  in  the  exhibi- 
tion and  called  the  picture  a  "  Symphonic  du 
Blanc  "  some  years  before  Whistler  adopted 
that  title. 

The  exhibition  of  this  picture  represents,  in 
a  way,  the  turning  point  in  Whistler's  career. 
It  was  a  steady  ascent  ever  after.  Before  this 
he  was  unknown,  and  exposed  to  the  manifold 
privations  and  vicissitudes  of  an  artist's  career. 
Many  a  day  he  had  gone  hungry  and  fre- 
quently could  not  paint  for  lack  of  material. 
Now  things  began  to  run  a  trifle  smoother,  al- 
though sales  were  still  rare  and  money  scarce. 
His  lodgings  in  7  Linsey  Row  (now  101 
Cheyne  Walk)  were  extremely  simple  and 


20  The  Whistler  Book 

his  studio  consisted  of  a  second-story  back 
room. 

During  the  next  three  years  he  worked  hard, 
and  finished  a  number  of  pictures  that  since 
then  have  made  history.  They  are  all  in  a 
lighter  key  and  of  brilliant  colouring.  The 
problem  he  seemed  to  be  most  interested  in 
was  to  reproduce  in  relief  the  charm  of  diversi- 
fied colour  patches  as  seen  in  Japanese  prints. 

He  continued  to  see  things  in  this  way  until 
he  made  a  trip  to  South  America  in  1866. 
Feeling,  perhaps,  slightly  discouraged,  or  in 
need  of  some  recreation,  he  and  his  brother  set 
out  for  Chili,  under  the  pretence  of  joining  the 
insurgents  a  la  Poe  and  Byron,  although  I 
hardly  believe  that  a  man  of  thirty-two  really 
capable  of  such  a  wild  goose  chase.  At  all 
events,  when  they  reached  Valparaiso  the  re- 
bellion had  ceased  and  instead  of  handling  a 
musket  "  our  Jimmie  "  opened  his  paint  box 
instead. 

The  result  was  startling.  Impressed  by  the 
new  sights  of  southern  scenery,  and  in  par- 
ticular of  the  translucency  and  subdued  bril- 
liancy of  the  sky  at  night,  he  painted  one  of 
his  finest  nocturnes,  the  u  Valparaiso  Har- 
bour," now  at  the  National  Gallery  of  Art. 
The  darkness  of  night  to  a  large  extent  bars 
colour,  and  furnishes  a  kind  of  tonal  veil  over 


Quartier  Latin  and  Chelsea         21 

all  objects;  but  in  southern  countries  the 
nights  are  clearer  and  brighter  and,  although 
forms  and  colours  are  indistinct,  they  remain 
more  plainly  discernible  than  in  the  blackness 
of  our  Northern  nights. 

After  his  return  to  London  he  worked  hard 
at  solving  the  problem  of  creating  tone  which 
would  suggest  atmosphere  with  as  little  sub- 
ject matter  as  possible.  Four  years  passed  be- 
fore he  held  the  first  exhibition  of  a  Varia- 
tion "  and  "  Harmony."  He  now  began  to  feel 
his  own  strength.  He  felt  that  he  had  done 
something  new  and  had  the  courage  to  coin 
his  own  titles.  The  method  of  classifying  his 
pictures  as  Harmonies  and  Symphonies,  Ar- 
rangements, Nocturnes,  Notes,  and  Caprices, 
was  entirely  his  own  invention  and  in  his 
earlier  career  did  much  to  attract  attention  to 
his  work.  One  year  later,  in  1872,  exhibiting 
several  symphonies,  he  included  for  the  first 
time  an  impression  of  night  under  the  title  of 
"  Nocturne."  The  years  1870-77  were  prob- 
ably the  busiest  and  the  most  important  ones 
of  his  whole  career.  They  produced  not  only 
the  "  Nocturne,"  but  also  the  "  Peacock 
Room  "  and  the  painting  which  is  generally 
conceded  to  be  his  masterpiece,  the  "  Portrait 
of  the  Artist's  Mother." 

Success  and  fame  at  last  knocked  at  his 


22  The  Whistler  Book 

door.  Mr.  F.  R.  Leyland,  the  rich  ship-owner 
of  Liverpool,  proved  a  generous  patron.  Be- 
tween 1872  and  1874  he  ordered  portraits  of 
himself,  Mrs.  Leyland  and  the  four  children. 
Whistler  made  long  visits  at  Speke  Hall, 
Leyland's  home  near  Liverpool.  His  paint- 
ings began  to  sell  more  readily  than  hereto- 
fore and  several  orders  for  interior  decoration 
had  come  in,  among  them  the  decoration  of  the 
music  room  of  the  famous  violinist  Sarasate's 
home  in  Paris.  He  was  willing  to  work  at 
anything  as  long  as  he  could  carry  out  his  own 
ideas.  He  invented  schemes  for  interior  deco- 
ration and  also  once  tried  himself  as  an  illus- 
trator, when  he  made  exquisite  drawings  of  the 
vases,  plates,  cups  of  blue  and  white  Nankin 
for  the  catalogue  of  Sir  H.  Thompson's  col- 
lection of  porcelain.  (Ellis  and  Elvey,  Lon- 
don, 1878.) 

After  leaving  7  Linsey  Row,  during  the 
years  1866-1878,  Whistler  lived  in  several 
other  houses  situated  in  the  Chelsea  district, 
for  like  so  many  of  us  that  have  got  used  to  a 
certain  part  of  the  city,  he  could  never  get 
away  from  it.  The  most  pretentious  of  these 
abodes  was  the  "  White  House  "  which  became 
one  of  the  centres  of  attraction  in  the  art  life 
of  London. 

There  he  gave  his  famous  Sunday  morning 


National  Gallery,  Washington 

ARRANGEMENT  IN  BLACK:   F.  R.  LEYLAND. 


Quartier  Latin  and  Chelsea          23 

breakfasts,  which  Mr.  Harper  Pennington 
describes  so  amusingly:  "  They  were  always 
late  in  being  served,  outrageously  delayed 
without  apparent  cause.  It  was  no  uncommon 
thing  for  us  to  wait  an  hour,  or  even  two,  for 
the  eggs,  fish,  cutlets,  and  a  sweet  dish  of 
which  the  meal  consisted.  A  bottle  of  very 
ordinary  white  wine  was  our  only  drink.  The 
whole  thing,  in  fact,  was  an  "  arrangement  " 
—  just  a  colour  scheme  in  yellow  to  match  his 
"  blue  and  white  "  porcelain  and  his  "  yellow 
and  blue  "  dining  room.  The  room  itself  was 
unique  in  its  effective  and  independent  styh 
of  decoration.  It  was  entirely  carried  out 
after  his  own  designs,  even  to  the  painting  of 
the  exterior.  And  the  environment,  the 
Thames,  the  old  church  of  Chelsea  with  its 
square  tower,  the  peculiar  shaped  bridge  of 
Battersea,  the  lights  of  Cremorne  in  the  dis- 
tance, all  furnished  interesting  pictorial  topics 
and  played  an  important  part  in  the  painter's 
mise  en  scene. 

His  neighbours  added  to  the  lustre  of  this 
period.  In  the  same  district  at  that  time  lived 
Rossetti,  Swinburne,  George  Meredith  and 
Carlyle,  and  Whistler  was  on  friendly  footing 
with  all  of  them. 

Exhibitions  of  his  work  were  now  a  regular 
occurrence.  In  1874  he  held  his  first  "  one 


24  The  Whistler  Book 

man's  show  "  of  thirteen  paintings  and  fifty 
prints  at  number  48  Pall  Mall,  London.  In 
1877  he  arranged  an  exhibition  in  the  Gros- 
venor  Gallery.  Among  the  exhibits  were 
"The  Falling  Rocket"  (Nocturne  in  black 
and  gold)  which  brought  about  the  Ruskin 
attacks,  and  consequently  the  famous  libel 
suit,  Whistler  v.  Ruskin.  One  can  hardly 
imagine,  to-day,  why  the  picture  should  have 
created  so  much  commotion;  but  it  was  a 
decided  innovation  at  that  time,  an  event  in  a 
way  ushering  in  a  new  era  of  art.  Now  this 
particular  style  of  representation  has  any 
number  of  disciples,  and  we  have  accepted  it  as 
one  of  the  principal  assertions  of  modern  art. 

Strange,  that  history  always  repeats  itself. 
We  should  know  by  this  time  that  our  tastes 
and  the  tastes  of  time  are  not  absolute,  and 
that  our  sense  of  beauty  is  likely  to  be  affected 
by  circumstances  to  an  extent  which  we  cannot 
realize.  There  was  a  time,  and  not  so  long 
ago,  when  Gothic  buildings  were  regarded  by 
the  man  of  culture  much  as  dandelions  are  re- 
garded by  the  gardener.  For  years  the  very 
name  Nocturne  was  a  reproach.  It  was  sup- 
posed to  be  the  product  of  idiosyncrasy  and 
nonchalant  audacity,  the  work  of  a  decadent 
period  in  art,  which,  because  it  was  decadent, 
could  not  be  good,  for  everything  that  looked 


Quartier  Latin  and  Chelsea          25 

like  a  Whistler  was  regarded  as  a  note  of 
decadence.  It  was  an  argument  in  a  circle, 
no  doubt ;  but  such  arguments  seem  most  con- 
vincing when  once  a  prejudice  exists  in  the  art 
world.  Only  gradually  did  people  begin  to 
see  more  than  cleverness  in  his  products. 

Oscar  Wilde  was  a  constant  friend  of 
Whistler's  at  this  time.  The  friendship  was 
still  young  and,  for  a  while,  the  two  were  in- 
separable. The  author  of  "  Dorian  Grey " 
spent  hours  in  Whistler's  studio,  came  re- 
peatedly to  the  Sunday  breakfasts,  and  pre- 
sided at  Whistler's  private  views.  Whistler 
went  out  and  about  with  him  everywhere.  But 
Whistler  gradually  came  to  feel  that  Wilde, 
in  spite  of  his  brilliancy  and  wit,  lacked  funda- 
mental purpose.  Wilde  talked  constantly 
about  art,  but,  in  the  end,  Whistler  concluded 
that  Wilde,  like  most  modern  authors,  knew 
very  little  about  it. 

The  days  of  the  Renaissance,  of  versatility, 
of  talent  and  appreciation  seem  to  have 
passed.  Whistler  easily  tired  of  his  friends 
and,  although  this  friendship  had  lasted  for 
years,  he  finally  dropped  Wilde  without  much 
ado.  A  critic  of  "  The  London  Times  "  has 
summed  up  the  difference  between  the  two  in 
the  following  words: 

"  With  a  mind  not  a  jot  less  keen  than 


26  The  Whistler  Book 

Whistler's,  Oscar  Wilde  had  none  of  the  con- 
victions, the  high  faith  for  which  Whistler 
found  it  worth  while  to  defy  the  crowd. 
Wilde  had  posed  to  attract  the  crowd.  And 
the  difference  was  this,  that,  while  Whistler 
was  a  prophet  who  liked  to  play  Pierrot, 
Wilde  grew  into  Pierrot  who  liked  to  play  the 
prophet." 

Like  most  artists  who  have  suddenly  sprung 
into  fame,  Whistler  had  lived  beyond  his 
means.  He  was  fond  of  comfort  and  elegance, 
and  aUowed  himself  the  fulfilment  of  any  whim 
as  long  as  it  granted  him  genuine  pleasure, 
as  "  art  and  joy  should  go  together." 

The  auction  sale  of  the  contents  of  his  home 
in  1879,  and  the  sale  of  his  paintings  at 
Sotheby's  in  February,  1880,  were  perhaps  not 
entirely  caused  by  financial  difficulties.  They 
may  have  been  prompted  in  an  equal  degree  by 
a  desire  to  make  a  change  and  break  the 
routine  of  the  studio  life.  He  told,  however, 
to  his  friends  in  his  inimitable  way  how  the 
sheriff's  officer  called  upon  him  with  a  writ, 
and  the  last  bottle  of  champagne  was  brought 
out  of  the  cellar  for  that  worthy's  delectation. 
In  Venice,  where  he  went  in  September,  1879, 
he  seems  to  have  been  in  straitened  circum- 
stances for  quite  a  while.  He  lived  in  modest 
quarters  and  dined  in  cheap,  dingy  places. 


Quartier  Latin  and  Chelsea          27 

These  were  his  "  polenta  and  macaroni  days," 
and,  in  a  way,  a  repetition  of  his  Paris  stu- 
dent's life,  only  much  harder  to  bear  as  he  was 
older  (forty-five)  and  used  to  luxury. 

No  matter  what  his  reason  may  have  been 
for  breaking  up  his  bachelor  establishment  it 
was  the  second  turning  point  in  his  career. 

Painting  did  not  play  quite  as  important  a 
part  in  Whistler's  life  after  his  Venetian  so- 
journ. He  still  painted  a  number  of  portraits, 
among  them  the  "  Sarasate "  and  "  Comte 
Montesquiou,"  but  he  was  more  active  as  an 
etcher,  lithographer,  pamphleteer,  lecturer  and 
teacher.  Orders  were  scarce  at  all  times.  The 
only  regular  portrait  orders  he  had  in  the  first 
half  of  the  eighties  were  those  of  Lady  Archi- 
bald Campbell,  wife  of  the  Duke  of  Argyll; 
and  of  Lady  Meux,  who  liked  her  first  portrait, 
in  a  black  evening  gown  with  a  white  opera 
cloak  against  a  black  background,  so  well  that 
she  had  herself  painted  three  times  in  succes- 
sion. Whistler's  sense  of  beauty  was  a  strong 
feature  in  his  work.  Maybe  it  was  not  the 
sense  of  beauty  an  Englishman  would  like. 
He  looked  for  a  pictorial  aspect,  rather  than 
the  "  lady  "  in  his  sitter;  and  in  England  the 
"  lady  "  is  the  thing  to  secure  in  a  portrait  of 
a  woman. 

He  returned  to  London  in  1880,  but  stayed 


28  The  Whistler  Book 

only  a  short  while.  During  the  next  ten  years 
he  had  no  permanent  home;  like  a  nomad  he 
flitted  from  city  to  city,  from  studio  to  studio 
through  England,  France  and  Belgium. 
Finally  he  found  some  sort  of  a  resting  place 
in  the  rue  du  Bac  110,  for  many  years  his  Paris 
home.  It  was  a  two-story  house  with  a  garden 
enclosed  by  a  wall,  as  secluded  a  spot  as  one 
could  find  in  the  gay  and  noisy  city.  He  was 
always  fond  of  gardens  of  flowers.  "  In  the 
roses  of  his  garden  he  buried  his  sorrows,"  one 
of  his  most  talented  pupils,  E.  H.  Wuerpel, 
tells  us,  in  his  little  brochure  "  My  Friend 
Whistler." 

In  the  meanwhile  his  London  Exhibitions 
became  more  and  more  numerous.  During 
the  next  fifteen  years  the  following  eight  ex- 
hibitions are  on  record. 

1881  — Jan.  —  An  exhibition  of  fifty-three 
pastels  at  the  Fine  Art  Society  in  Bond  St., 
London. 

1883  —  Feb.  —  Fifty-one  etchings  and  dry 
points  exhibited  in  Bond  St.  Gallery,  London. 

1884  —  May  -  -  Harmonies  —  Notes  - 
Nocturnes  —  shown  at  the  Dowdswell  Gallery, 
London.    At  the  same  time  an  exhibition  took 
place  in  Paris  and  Dublin.     They  were  ar- 
ranged according  to  his  own  idea  of  exhibit- 
ing. 


jo  (ETCHING). 


Quartier  Latin  and  Chelsea          29 

1884  —  Nov.  —  Twenty-five  works  sent  to 
the  exhibition  of  the  Dublin  Sketching 
Club. 

1886  —  May  —  A  second  series  of  Notes  — 
Harmonies  —  Nocturnes  shown  at  the  Dowds- 
well  Gallery. 

1889  —  The  most  representative  exhibition 
of  his  works,  since  that  of  1874,  at  the  College 
for  Working  Women,  Queen  Sq.,  London. 

1892  —  Mar.  —  An  exhibition  of  forty-four 
nocturnes,  marines  and  chevalet  pieces  for 
which  Whistler  prepared  the  catalogue.  At 
the  Goupil  Galleries,  Bond  Street,  London. 

1895  —  Dec.  —  Exhibitions  of  seventy  litho- 
graphs, London. 

In  the  years  following  his  death,  as  is  usually 
the  case,  1904-05,  occurred  the  most  important 
assemblage  of  his  works  —  the  memorial  ex- 
hibition of  Glasgow,  Boston,  Paris  and  Lon- 
don. 

Of  special  interest  are  Whistler's  first 
American  exhibits.  At  the  first  exhibition  of 
the  Society  of  American  Artists  at  the  Kurtz 
Gallery,  New  York,  1878,  he  was  represented 
by  a  "  Coast  of  Brittany."  In  the  autumn  of 
1881  at  the  Pennsylvania  Academy  of  Fine 
Arts  he  exhibited  the  portrait  of  his  mother, 
which  was  also  seen  the  following  spring  at 
the  Society  of  American  Artists  in  New  York. 


30  The  Whistler  Book 

Sheridan  Ford  once  asked  him  why  he  did  not 
exhibit  more  frequently  in  America.  Whistler 
answered :  "  I  don't  know,  they  will  not  allow 
me  to  take  them  across  the  ocean.  You  see, 
I  don't  own  my  pictures.  I  sold  most  of  them 
long  ago  to  people  who  think  more  of  them 
than  they  do  of  me.  I  wrote  and  asked  for  two 
or  three  of  them  to  take  over,  and  the  answers 
I  received  were  to  the  effect  that  I  could  have 
them  to  exhibit  here,  but  not  to  exhibit  in 
America.  Why?  Because  the  owners  are 
afraid  of  the  ocean.  I  said  I  would  insure  the 
pictures,  at  which  of  course  they  laughed.  I 
may  go  and  I  may  not.  A  good  many  people 
in  America  don't  like  me,  and  I  am  not  there 
to  fight  them  as  I  can  fight  my  enemies  here. 
I  don't  mind  having  enemies  where  I  can  get 
at  them.  I  like  the  pleasure  of  whipping 
them;  but  these  fellows  in  America  have  it 
all  their  own  way.  There  is  no  record,  and  I 
am  at  a  constant  disadvantage." 

In  1884  he  was  elected  President  of  the 
Royal  Society  of  British  Artists,  but  soon 
quarrelled  with  the  old-fashioned  element 
among  its  members,  and  the  whole  affair  de- 
generated into  one  of  those  disputes  upon 
which  such  copious  light  has  been  shed  in  "  The 
Gentle  Art  of  Making  Enemies." 

The  enforcement  of  the  Whistlerian  policy 


Quartier  Latin  and  Chelsea         31 

of  elimination  and  arrangement  brought  dis- 
aster upon  the  Society.  The  annual  sales  fell 
from  £8,000  in  1885  to  under  1,000  in  1888. 
It  was  time  for  the  ideal  exhibitor  and  man- 
ager of  mise  en  scenes  to  retire.  And  so  he 
did,  if  not  accompanied  by  a  cavalcade  of 
buglers  blowing  a  blast  with,  at  least,  as 
much  noise  and  controversy  as  he  could  con- 
jure up  in  these  art-forsaken  and  colourless 
days. 

It  is  not  until  towards  the  close  of  his  life, 
in  1898,  that  we  find  him  again  at  the  head  of 
an  artistic  corporation,  when  the  International 
Society  was  proud  to  acknowledge  his  leader- 
ship. In  1880  Whistler  made  his  debut  in 
Germany  at  the  International  Art  Exhibition 
of  Munich.  The  result  was  not  a  flattering 
one.  The  jury  officiating  on  that  occasion 
established  a  peculiar  claim  to  the  affectionate 
recollection  of  posterity  by  awarding  a  Second 
Class  medal  to  the  "  Portrait  of  the  Artist's 
Mother,"  now  in  the  Luxembourg.  Of  course 
a  jury  has  perfect  rights  to  make  awards  as  it 
pleases  as  long  as  the  verdict  is  a  competent 
and  impartial  one,  but  Whistler  by  this  time 
was  too  well-known,  and  one  can  hardly  blame 
him  that  he  wrote  the  following  sarcastic  but 
unusually  dignified  letter  to  the  Secretary  of 
the  Central  Committee. 


32  The  Whistler  Book 

"  SIR:  I  beg  to  acknowledge  the  receipt  of 
your  letter,  officially  informing  me  that  the 
committee  awards  me  a  second  class  gold 
medal.  Pray  convey  my  sentiments  of  tem- 
pered and  respectable  joy  to  the  gentlemen 
of  the  committee,  and  my  complete  appreci- 
ation of  the  second-hand  compliment  paid 
me. 

"  And  I  have,  Sir, 

'  The  honour  to  be 
'  Your  most  humble  obedient  servant, 
"  J.  Mc]S"EiLL  WHISTLER." 

After  1895  Whistler  ceased  to  hold  exhibi- 
tions. The  death  of  his  wife  brought  about  a 
long  silence,  and  little  was  heard  of  Whistler. 
He  had  laid  aside  his  jester's  bells  and  cap 
and  ceased  pamphleteering  and  posing  in  pub- 
lic. He  had  become  a  kind  of  recognized  insti- 
tution in  the  art  world,  occupying  a  place 
apart  from  the  masses  of  his  contemporaries. 
Men  of  very  dissimilar  esthetic  convictions 
agreed  in  regarding  him  as  a  painter  of  ex- 
ceptional ability,  and  he  had  a  solid  and  appre- 
ciative following. 

We  in  America  wondered  what  had  become 
of  him.  Occasionally  a  newspaper  notice  in- 
formed us  that  he  had  taken  up  teaching,  or 
false  reports  crossed  the  ocean  that  he  had  be- 


Quartier  Latin  and  Chelsea          33 

come  a  symbolist.  He  himself  was  inactive, 
as  far  as  the  public  was  concerned. 

I  suppose  he  was  at  last  tired  of  notoriety 
and  the  cares  of  public  life.  He  had  played 
his  part  and  had  played  it  well.  Intimate 
friends  tell  us  that  he  worked  as  hard  as  ever. 
He  still  had  many  problems  to  solve,  if  for 
nobody  else  but  himself,  and  was  satisfied  that 
he  could  afford  to  devote  his  time  to  them. 
Financially  he  was  fairly  well  situated;  but 
he  spent  money  extravagantly,  and  the  two 
residences  and  various  studios  he  kept  up  in 
Paris  and  London  proved  at  all  times  a  heavy 
drain  on  his  income,  which  was  derived  entirely 
from  his  art  products.  He  left  about  ten  thou- 
sand pounds,  a  rather  small  sum,  considering 
the  prices  he  received  for  some  of  his  paint- 
ings. 

His  school  in  the  Passage  Stanislaw,  oppo- 
site Carolus  Duran's  home,  was  neither  a 
necessity  nor  a  particular  pleasure  to  him.  He 
opened  it  for  the  sole  benefit  of  one  of  his 
favourite  models,  Mme.  Carmen  Rossi,  who, 
as  a  child,  had  posed  for  the  painter.  She 
received  the  entire  profits  and  it  is  said  that 
during  the  three  years  that  the  school  existed 
she  made  enough  to  retire  in  comfort.  The 
school  was  opened  in  the  autumn  of  1898  and 
closed  in  1901.  He  was  too  impatient  to  be  a 


34  The  Whistler  Book 

good  teacher;  he  simply  came  there  and 
painted  and  the  pupils  saw  him  paint  and 
learned  what  they  could,  just  as  did  the  ap- 
prentices of  the  Old  Masters.  He  taught 
solely  the  science  of  painting,  neither  colour 
nor  composition.  He  had  an  abhorrence  of 
talking  art,  and  one  of  the  anecdotes  he  liked 
to  relate  was  that  he  had  known  Rossetti  for 
years  and  "  had  talked  art  many,  many  times 
but  painting  only  once." 

He  even  refused  to  discuss  technicalities. 
There  was  no  talk  of  pigments,  mediums,  var- 
nish or  methods  of  applying  them.  He  worked 
with  his  pupils,  that  was  all.  Like  the  appren- 
tices of  old  they  had  to  pick  up  their  knowl- 
edge themselves,  and  if  he  found  something 
that  he  liked  his  usual  praise  consisted  of  "  Go 
right  on,"  or  ""  Continues,  continuez"  On  the 
wall  was  tacked  his  second  series  of  proposi- 
tions which  endorsed  his  constant  advice  to 
pupils:  "  If  you  possess  superior  faculties,  so 
much  the  better,  allons,  develop  them;  but 
should  you  lack  them,  so  much  the  worse,  for 
despite  all  efforts  you  will  never  produce  any- 
thing of  interest."  Good  common  sense,  but, 
after  all,  a  slight  return  for  the  tuition  fee. 
It  should  have  induced  most  pupils  to  pack  up 
their  paint  boxes  and  return  home. 

As  Leon  Dabo,  in  his  lecture  on  "  Whistler's 


Quartier  Latin  and  Chelsea          35 

Technique  "  at  the  Metropolitan  Museum  of 
Art,  has  so  well  observed:  "  Nothing  is  more 
absurd  than  the  notion,  so  widely  promul- 
gated by  elderly  maiden  ladies  who  misspend 
their  energies  writing  about  paintings  and 
painters  from  Cimabue  to  Whistler,  that  a 
work  of  art  is  produced  as  the  logical  result 
of  an  apprenticeship  served  in  an  art  school. 
There  probably  is  much  juxtaposition  of  this 
belief  —  we  all  know  the  painters  whose  only 
reason  for  lowering  intensely  blue  sky  is  be- 
cause it  is  too  blue;  the  painters  who  labour, 
heaping  up  chunks  of  paint  until  it  looks 
'  right ; '  but  with  Whistler  a  canvas  advanced 
in  an  entirely  different  manner.  He  knew 
scientifically  that  he  could  use  only  so  much 
of  a  given  tone  if  he  wished  to  produce  colour, 
and  he  knew  what  other  tone  to  place  in  juxta- 
position, what  parts  of  the  canvas  must  hold 
the  spectator's  eye,  in  varying  degrees  of  in- 
terest, in  order  to  obtain  the  effect  he  desired 
to  give  and  its  use  in  the  butterfly,  the  exact 
spot  of  a  sail  on  the  ocean,  a  light  on  the  hori- 
zon, all  these,  to  many  insignificant  objects 
and  spots,  nevertheless  do  their  work,  either  to 
re-vivify  an  otherwise  large  surface  or  to  hold 
the  eye  momentarily  interested,  until  the  am- 
bience was  obtained.  And  this  science  —  the 
effect  of  line  and  colour  on  the  eye,  —  is  prac- 


36  The  Whistler  Book 

tically  unknown  to  painters,  is  untaught  in  our 
art  schools.  This  mastery  over  his  means  and 
material  Whistler  possessed  in  a  higher  degree 
than  any  other  modern  painter." 

In  1902  he  once  more  took  a  house  in  Lon- 
don and  selected  Cheyne  Walk,  an  old  man- 
sion covered  with  ivy,  near  the  Thames  in  the 
Chelsea  district,  where  he  had  spent  so  many 
years  during  the  beginning  of  his  career. 
Friends  could  not  imagine  why  he  came  back 
from  Paris  to  London,  as  he  disliked  the  place, 
its  climate  and  its  art.  They  simply  forgot 
that  he  was  a  lover  of  atmospheric  effects,  and 
that  London  fogs  and  the  Thames  were,  after 
all,  nearest  to  his  heart.  In  the  summer  of 
1902  he  contemplated  a  short  trip  to  Holland 
in  the  company  of  Mr.  Ch.  W.  Freer,  but  was 
taken  sick  in  Flushing.  After  consulting  some 
doctors  in  The  Hague,  he  recovered  sufficiently 
to  return  to  London  and  set  to  work,  but  only 
one  year  in  the  old  haunts  was  granted  him. 

He  had  just  entered  upon  his  seventieth 
year  when  he  died  suddenly  on  July  17,  1903. 
He  suffered  from  some  internal  complaint,  the 
exact  nature  of  which  is  unknown.  He  had 
felt  ill  for  several  days,  but  on  the  seventeenth 
his  condition  had  so  improved  that  he  ordered 
a  cab  for  a  drive.  On  leaving  the  house  he  was 
seized  with  a  fit,  but  recovered;  a  short  while 


Quartier  Latin  and  Chelsea          37 

later  he  had  another  spasm,  which  killed  him. 
He  was  interred  (on  the  22nd)  in  the  family 
burial  plot  in  the  churchyard  of  the  old  church 
at  Chelsea  (which  his  mother  had  regularly 
attended),  near  the  grave  of  Hogarth.  The 
coffin,  covered  with  purple  pall,  was  carried  to 
the  church  followed  by  the  honorary  pall- 
bearers and  relatives  on  foot.  The  pall-bearers 
were:  Sir  James  Guthrie  (president  of  the 
Royal  Scottish  Academy) ;  Charles  W.  Freer, 
George  W.  Vanderbilt,  Edwin  A.  Abbey, 
John  La  very  (of  the  R.  S.  Academy)  and 
the  art  critic,  Theodore  Duret;  all  personal 
friends  of  Whistler's. 

The  relatives  present  included  the  Misses 
Philip  and  F.  L.  Philip,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Cecil 
Lawson,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Charles  Whibley  and 
Edwin  W.  Godwin.  Although  no  announce- 
ment of  the  funeral  was  made  in  London 
papers  many  distinguished  friends  and  ac- 
quaintances crowded  the  church.  Beautiful 
wreaths  were  sent  by  Vanderbilt,  Lawrence, 
Alma  Tadema  and  various  federations  and 
societies.  Those  present  were:  George  W. 
Vanderbilt,  Mr.  Joseph  Pennell,  Rev.  H.  C. 
Leserve  of  Boston,  Johnson  Sturges,  R.  F. 
Knoedler  and  I.  M.  B.  MacNary  of  New 
York  City;  M.  Dumont  of  the  International 
Society  of  Painters;  Marcus  Bourne  Huish, 


38  The  Whistler  Book 

editor  of  the  "  Art  Journal;  "  Thomas  Arm- 
strong; and  Alfred  East  (A.  R.  A). 

When  a  reporter  called  at  the  house  July 
18th  he  was  informed  that  the  artist  had  left 
stringent  instructions  that  no  information 
whatever  regarding  his  illness  or  death  should 
be  given  either  to  his  friends  or  the  newspapers. 
He  remained  true  to  his  eccentricities,  or 
rather  to  his  peculiar  personality.  Even  in  his 
exit  from  this  life  to  the  thrones  of  glory  be- 
yond, he  endeavoured  to  make  it  as  odd  and 
picturesque  as  possible.  He  played  his  part  to 
the  last.  And  it  was  one  of  the  noblest  parts 
ever  played  by  man. 


CHAPTER   III 

THE   BUTTERFLY 

THE  famous  butterfly  monogram,  origi- 
nally a  decorative  combination  of  the  letters 
"  J.  M.  W.,"  which  evolved  into  a  decorative 
design  of  a  butterfly,  enclosed  in  a  circle,  as  it 
appeared  in  his  "  Sarasate  "  and  "  Carlyle," 
and,  frequently,  a  mere  stencil-like  silhouette 
as  seen  in  his  correspondence,  began  to  appear 
in  Whistler's  pictures  in  the  late  sixties.  The 
"  Symphony  in  Gray  and  Green  —  The 
Ocean"  (painted  in  1866)  was  probably  the 
first  important  canvas  in  which  it  was  intro- 
duced. In  his  earlier  pictures  he  had  made 
use  of  an  ordinary  written  signature  as  most 
painters  use.  It  is  strange  that  it  took  an 
artist  of  Whistler's  sensitiveness  so  long  to 
realize  the  incongruities  of  these  crude  calli- 
graphic displays.  They  disfigure  many  a  good 
picture  and  smack  of  the  materialism  of  this 
age.  Every  picture  should  have  a  signature, 
if  for  no  other  reason  than  to  prove  the  authen- 
ticity at  some  future  time.  But  surely  it  can 

39 


40  The  Whistler  Book 

be  treated  with  more  discretion  than  it  is 
to-day.  The  Old  Masters  frequently  handled 
it  with  ingenuity  and  some  degree  of  modesty. 
It  was  the  Japanese  artist  who  gave  it  a  deco- 
rative significance.  The  red  cartouches  of 
Hiroshige  are  known  to  every  print  collector. 
He  considered  it  a  part  of  the  picture,  a  colour 
note  or  vehicle  of  balance  in  an  empty  space, 
as  important  a  detail  of  composition  as  any 
other. 

Whistler  treated  his  monogram  in  the  same 
conscientious  and  picturesque  fashion.  He 
used  it  with  preference  in  his  symphonies,  noc- 
turnes and  large  portraits,  but,  at  times,  also 
in  white,  as  on  a  rail  post  in  the  lower  right 
corner  of  his  "  Bognor."  He  handled  it  with 
more  than  ordinary  reverence,  as  everything 
that  pertained  to  the  exploiting  of  his  own  per- 
sonality. He  often  introduced  it  at  the  first 
painting  to  judge  the  effect,  and,  of  course,  he 
wiped  or  scraped  it  out  over  and  over  again 
until  he  procured  the  desired  effect.  He  con- 
tinually made  slight  changes  in  the  design,  he 
toyed  with  it  as  with  some  curio,  elaborated  it 
in  many  ways,  and,  eventually,  even  bestowed 
a  sting  upon  the  insect,  as  it  appears  in  his 
"  Gentle  Art  of  Making  Enemies." 

The  butterfly  teaches  a  lesson.  It  proves 
that  an  artist  can  be  self-assertive,  arrogant 


The  Butterfly  41 

and  yet  refined.  Whistler  thus  introduced  a 
method  of  picture  signing  that  should  be  gen- 
erally adopted.  Every  artist  should  have  his 
own  monogram,  and  use  it  with  discretion. 

But  it  has  even  a  deeper  significance  in 
Whistler's  life.  It  is  in  a  way  a  symbol  of  his 
evolution  as  a  painter.  As  we  study  his  work 
we  find  that  the  butterfly  monogram  does  not 
appear  before  Whistler  freed  himself  from 
foreign  influences,  and  invented  an  individual 
and  independent  style  of  his  own.  The  butter- 
fly may  well  stand  for  the  full  awakening  and 
realization  of  his  own  faculties.  Did  he  not 
say  himself: 

"  In  the  pale  citron  wing  of  the  butterfly, 
with  its  dainty  spots  of  orange,  he  saw  the 
stately  halls  of  fair  gold,  with  their  slender 
saffron  pillars,  and  was  taught  how  the  deli- 
cate drawing  high  upon  the  walls  should  be 
traced  in  slender  tones  of  orpiment  and  re- 
peated by  the  base  in  notes  of  graver  hue." 

Like  all  painters  Whistler  had  to  learn  his 
trade,  and  then  find  his  peculiar  way  of  ex- 
pression. It  took  him  well  nigh  a  quarter  of  a 
century.  He  entered  the  studio  of  Gleyre  in 
the  summer  of  1855  as  a  young  man  of  twenty- 
one,  and  was  nearly  forty-seven  when  he  had 
finished  the  "  Portrait  of  the  Artist's  Mother  " 
and  had  painted  a  few  nocturnes.  All  his 


42  The  Whistler  Book 

earlier  pictures  remind  us  of  some  other  mas- 
ter. "  The  Music  Room "  recalls  Stevens, 
"The  Blue  Wave:  Biarritz"  the  forceful 
style  of  Courbet,  and  "The  White  Sym- 
phony "  even  the  light  manner  of  Alma 
Tadema. 

Charles  Gleyre  was  an  excellent  draughts- 
man of  the  Ingres  school,  but  all  he  could 
teach  his  pupils  was  to  draw.  That  he  had 
once  been  capable  of  some  finer  appreciation 
of  colour  and  atmosphere,  students  of  art  may 
notice  in  his  "  Evening,"  painted  in  1843,  but 
he  became,  like  so  many  other  painters  of  this 
period,  the  victim  of  the  academic  style. 
Outline  drawing  reigned  supreme,  there  was 
room  for  nothing  else,  and  it  was  surely  not  a 
congenial  environment  for  young  Whistler, 
who,  even  at  that  time,  differed  with  the  preva- 
lent ideas  of  art.  Drawing,  however,  is  one  of 
the  most  important  factors  of  the  technique  of 
painting.  Velasquez  even  thought  it  was  the 
most  important  one,  and  Whistler,  with  the 
peculiar  tendency  of  his  art,  was,  no  doubt, 
fortunate  that  he  reached  Paris  while  draughts- 
manship was  still  honoured  and  not  neglected, 
as  in  the  later  days  of  the  impressionists.  A 
student  in  Paris  either  becomes  an  enthusiastic 
worker  from  the  nude,  making  one  study  after 
the  other,  like  all  those  Julian  and  Colarossi 


The  Butterfly  43 

pupils  —  or  he  gets  so  imbued  with  the  art 
atmosphere  that  he  sets  about  on  conquests  of 
his  own,  and  the  city  of  Seine,  with  its  mu- 
seums, monuments,  artists,  population,  pleas- 
ures and  sights  is  just  the  right  place  for  "  free 
lance  "  education.  Whistler  chose  the  latter 
way. 

The  canvases  of  this  period  show  strong  in- 
fluences of  Stevens  and  Courbet.  He  must 
have  been  enamoured  with  the  style  of  that 
great  painter  of  woman,  as  he  was  undoubt- 
edly with  the  rude  sincerity  of  Courbet.  If 
any  man  could  paint  at  that  time  it  was  Cour- 
bet. He  was  the  simplifier  of  planes  and 
values,  who  advocated  frankness  and  freedom 
of  expression,  and  detached  painting  from  all 
the  absurdities  and  abstractions  of  the  classic 
and  romantic  periods.  From  him  Whistler 
learned  to  put  on  his  pigments  in  a  bold,  vig- 
orous way.  He  was  never  fond  of  brushwork, 
but  at  that  time  he  liked  to  pile  it  on  in  a  flat 
and  solid  manner.  Only  gradually  his  brush- 
work  became  thinner  and  thinner,  invisible  and 
almost  untraceable,  carrying  out  his  maxim: 
"  A  picture  is  finished  when  all  traces  of  means 
used  to  bring  about  the  end  have  disappeared." 
As  is  the  case  with  all  great  paintings,  one 
must  forget  all  about  technique. 

From  Stevens  he  learned,  as  he  often  said 


44  The  Whistler  Book 


in  later  years,  all  that  could  be  learned  from 
him.  I  believe  that  the  influence  was  subtler 
and  more  spiritual,  and  one  that  lasted  all  his 
life.  Stevens  was  for  him  what  the  chart  from 
which  we  learn  history  in  school  days  remains 
for  us.  We  can  never  forget  it  and  entirely 
get  away  from  it.  In  the  beginning,  of  course, 
it  was  a  technical  preference.  Like  Stevens, 
he  used  precise  outlines,  a  profusion  of  details 
and  yet  with  all  a  poetic  atmosphere  that  is 
produced  principally  by  a  beautiful  juxtaposi- 
tion of  colour  values.  Even  to-day  few  of 
Whistler's  earlier  canvases  have  more  admirers 
than  the  "  Harmony  in  Green  and  Rose,"  per- 
haps better  known  as  "  The  Music  Room  " 
(in.  the  possession  of  Frank  J.  Hecker).  It 
was  painted  in  1860,  in  the  London  home  of 
Haden,  the  painter-etcher.  This  picture  was 
first  known  as  "  The  Morning  Call."  In  the 
corner  of  the  room  a  mirror  reflects  the  profile 
of  a  woman,  who  is  not  represented  in  the  pic- 
ture. This  is  a  portrait  of  Lady  Seymour 
Haden,  Whistler's  stepsister,  with  whom  he 
was  lodging  at  the  time.  In  front  of  the  win- 
dow hang  a  pair  of  white  curtains  with  a  green 
and  red  flower  pattern.  A  young  woman 
(Miss  Booth,  a  relative  of  the  Hadens)  in  a 
black  riding  habit,  which  she  holds  up  with 
her  gloved  hand,  stands  on  the  dark  red  car- 


Own  ed  by  Frank  J.  Hecker 

HARMONY    IN    GREEN    AND    ROSE:    THE    MUSIC    ROOM. 


The  Butterfly  45 

pet.  In  the  background  sits  a  little  girl  read- 
ing. 

Another  more  exotic  influence  became  pal- 
pable in  his  work  soon  after,  and  exercised  an 
almost  despotic  control  for  several  years.  At 
the  Paris  Exposition  Universette  of  1863 
Whistler  became  acquainted,  for  the  first  time, 
with  Japanese  art.  The  Parisian  artists,  par- 
ticularly the  set  with  which  Whistler  was  ac- 
quainted, got  colour  mad.  The  suggestiveness 
of  Oriental  composition,  which  accentuates  de- 
tail here  and  neglects  it  there;  the  peculiar 
space  arrangement  and  the  decorative  treat- 
ment of  detail,  captivated  all  modern  spirit. 

Edmond  and  Jules  de  Goncourt,  the  es- 
thetes of  the  Empire,  and  the  forerunners  of 
the  Japanese  enthusiasts,  and  specialists  like 
Cernuschi,  Regamey,  Guimet,  and  Bing  be- 
came the  spokesmen  for  Japanese  bibelots. 
Paris  was  deluged  with  little  art  objects  fash- 
ioned out  of  bronze,  porcelain,  cloisonne,  jade, 
ivory,  wood  and  metal.  Everybody  started  a 
collection,  and  became  a  member  of  the  "  So- 
ciete  du  Jinglar,"  with  annual  meetings  at 
Sevres,  which  was  fanatically  devoted  to  the 
worship  and  exploitation  of  Eastern  art. 

The  harmonious  arrangement  of  the  Japa- 
nese colour  prints  in  particular  fascinated  the 
cognoscenti.  The  application  of  colour  in 


46  The  Whistler  Book 

Japanese  art  is  somewhat  different  to  ours. 
It  is  more  primitive,  and  based  on  the  decora- 
tive principle  of  simultaneous  contrast.  It 
deals  solely  with  flat  tints  with  occasional  gra- 
dations on  the  outer  edges,  and  vibration  is 
produced  by  the  simple  method  of  letting  the 
paper,  or  silk,  shine  through  the  pigment.  If 
Japanese  colouring  does  not  directly  recall 
the  polychromic  designs  of  primitive  people, 
of  pottery  decorations,  wall  designs,  carpets 
and  mats,  Scandinavian  wood  ornamentation, 
etc.,  the  reason  is  entirely  to  be  found  in  its 
refinement  and  finish.  It  has  the  same  origin ; 
a  totem  pole  is  the  beginning,  and  a  Japanese 
print  about  the  end  of  the  development. 

True  enough,  coloured  prints  were  classified 
as  vulgar  art.  They  were  considered  ordinary 
pictorial  commodities  of  no  more  importance 
to  the  natives  than  coloured  supplements  to 
our  Sunday  readers.  But  they  were  of  such 
exquisite  finish  that  we  wonderingly  ask  our- 
selves if  the  nobler  branches  of  art  in  this  coun- 
try really  reached  a  higher  standard  of  per- 
fection. It  is  hardly  possible.  It  was  rather 
their  application  than  their  art  value  which 
offended  the  nobility.  Many  of  the  most  cher- 
ished prints  of  Kiyonaga,  Sharaku,  Shunsho, 
and  Outomaro,  depicting  teahouse  scenes,  ac- 
tors, wrestlers  and  ladies  of  the  Yoshiwara, 


The  Butterfly  47 


were  drawn  for  no  other  purpose  than  to  serve 
as  souvenir  cards  and  advertisements. 

The  colour  appreciation  of  the  Japanese 
clerk,  labourer  and  peasant  must  have  been 
developed  to  an  exceptional  degree,  if  these 
designs,  that  were  so  cheap  that  everybody 
bought  them  as  we  do  newspapers,  could 
arouse  nothing  but  ordinary  appreciation  and 
matter-of-fact  comment. 

The  Japanese  used  colours  in  combinations 
that  seem  strange  and  unusual  to  us.  They 
did  not  seem  to  care  about  any  complementary 
laws,  but  introduced  yellow  with  pink,  purple 
with  green,  brown  with  red  without  the  slight- 
est hesitation.  This  may  be  explained  by  the 
restraint  of  their  palette.  Their  old  hand-made 
colours  are  all  keyed  in  middle  tints ;  they  did 
not  lack  decision  or  strength,  but  they  were 
never  loud  or  vehement.  Thus  arrangements 
were  possible  that  would  look  crude  with  the 
use  of  Western  colours.  Cheret's  and  Tou- 
louse Lautrec's  posters,  even  when  of  three- 
sheet  dimensions  and  seen  in  open  air,  seldom 
expressed  more  than  contrast  and  animation. 
They  worked  on  the  principle  of  the  Japanese 
colour  print,  but  in  a  very  crude  and  super- 
ficial fashion.  They  wished  to  startle,  not  to 
please. 

If  colour  is  seen  in  flat  tint  patches  it  pro- 


48  The  Whistler  Book 

duces  a  more  vivid  image  on  the  retina  than  a 
pictorial  representation  of  mixed  pigments,  as 
flat  tints  are  more  favourable  to  the  brilliancy 
of  colour.  Each  separate  soft  tint  creates  a 
complementary  image,  and  the  eye  would  be 
easily  fatigued  if  the  colours  were  strong.  In 
the  Japanese  colour  print  they  are  softened 
and  blended  together  not  so  much  by  the  skil- 
ful and  harmonious  juxtaposition,  as  by  the 
suavity  of  the  medium,  the  introduction  of 
neutral  tints,  the  mellow  white  foundation  of 
the  paper,  and  the  arrangement  of  shapes 
encased  in  precise  lines. 

The  European  painter  had  a  different  idea. 
Although  recognizing  the  supremacy  of  col- 
our, he  took  visual  appearances  as  they  were 
and  actually  appeared  in  life  as  guiding  mod- 
els for  his  representations.  Colour  became 
submerged  in  other  qualities  almost  equally 
important,  as  those  of  line,  perspective,  chia- 
roscura,  relief  drawing  and  minute  observa- 
tion. The  Eastern  artist  applied  colour  for 
colour's  sake,  and  kept  all  other  elements,  no- 
tably those  of  line,  feeling,  shape  and  space 
arrangement  independent  —  not  independent 
as  far  as  the  tonality  of  the  final  effect  was 
concerned,  but  independent  in  their  function 
as  vehicles  of  expression.  They  were  never 
diffused  in  the  same  way  as  in  an  Old  Master. 


Owned  by  John  G.Johnson 

LANGE    LEIZEN    OF    THE    SIX    MARKS:    PURPLE    AND    ROSE. 


The  Butterfly  49 


Each  line,  shape  and  colour  had  to  tell  its  own 
story,  while  in  Western  art  composition,  col- 
our and  idea  often  became  inseparable  by  the 
application  of  the  blurred  outline. 

Whistler,  at  this  stage  of  his  development, 
was  interested  simply  in  recreating  Japanese 
colour  arrangements,  to  paint  local  values  in 
such  a  way  that  they  would  reflect  the  beauty, 
contrast  and  variety  of  an  Outamaro  print. 
The  pictures  of  this  period  remind  one  of  that 
capricious  Chinese  princess,  of  whom  Heinrich 
Heine  speaks,  whose  quaint  and  solitary  pleas- 
ure consisted  of  tearing  costly  silks  into  tatters, 
to  scatter  the  rags  to  the  winds  and  to  watch 
them  flutter  like  rose,  blue  and  yellow  butter- 
flies to  the  lily  ponds  below. 

Already  in  his  "  Woman  in  White  "  Whis- 
tler had  shown  some  preferences  for  colour, 
but  not  until  after  he  had  taken  his  first  house 
in  London,  when  his  mother  came  to  live  with 
him,  did  he  show  those  peculiar  outbursts  of 
colour  that  were  a  direct  outcome  of  the  study 
of  Japanese  prints.  In  later  years  it  was  all 
tone,  but  in  the  years  1863-66,  it  was  all  colour, 
with  a  preference  for  white.  The  principal 
pictures  of  this  period  were  "  Lange  Leizen  of 
the  Six  Marks:  In  purple  and  rose"  (in  the 
possession  of  John  G.  Johnson) ;  "  The  Little 
White  Girl"  (owned  by  Arthur  Studd), 


50  The  Whistler  Book 

"  The  Golden  Screen,"  "  The  Princess  of  the 
Porcelain  Land,"  and  "  The  Balcony:  Varia- 
tions of  Flesh  Colour  "  (owned  by  Charles  W. 
Freer)  and  "  The  White  Symphony  "  (owned 
by  John  G.  Whittemore) . 

Whistler  clothed  his  English  models  in 
Eastern  dress,  and  reproduced  the  beautiful 
colours  with  Japanese  detail.  He  was  among 
the  first  to  appreciate  the  beauty  of  Chinese 
porcelain,  of  which  he  owned  many  choice 
pieces.  In  his  "  Lange  Leizen  "  is  shown  a 
young  woman  in  a  Japanese  costume,  seated 
and  holding  with  her  left  hand  on  her  lap  a 
blue  and  white  vase  of  the  shape  known  in 
Holland  as  the  "  Lange  Leizen  of  the  Six 
Marks  "  (referring  to  the  potter's  mark  on  the 
bottom  of  the  vase) .  Her  right  hand,  covered 
by  the  sleeve  of  the  kimono,  is  raised  and  holds 
a  brush.  Her  skirt  is  black  with  a  delicate 
design  in  colours.  The  kimono  is  cream  white, 
decorated  with  bright  flowers  and  lined  with 
rose  colours.  Around  her  hair,  which  falls 
over  her  shoulders,  is  tied  a  black  scarf.  On 
the  floor  are  several  blue  and  white  vases  and 
an  Oriental  carpet.  To  the  right  is  a  red  cov- 
ered table,  and  behind  the  figure  is  a  chest. 
The  painting  is  signed  "  Whistler,  1864,"  in 
the  upper  right-hand  corner.  The  frame  was 
designed  by  Whistler  himself  and  decorated 


National  Gallery,   Washington 

THE    PRINCESS    OF    THE    PORCELAIN    LAND. 


The  Butterfly  51 


with  Chinese  fret  and  six  marks.  It  was 
shown  in  the  Royal  Academy  of  1864. 

Another  picture  of  this  period  is  the 
"  Golden  Screen."  A  young  woman  in  Japa- 
nese costume  is  seated  on  a  brown  rug,  her 
head  seen  in  profile,  as  she  examines  a  Japa- 
nese print.  She  wears  a  purple  kimono  dec- 
orated with  multicoloured  flowers  and  bor- 
dered with  a  vermilion  scarf,  and  a  green  obi 
tied  around  her  waist;  her  outer  kimono  is 
white  with  a  red  flowered  design.  To  the  left 
is  a  tea  box,  some  roses  and  a  white  vase  with 
pansies.  Hiroshige  prints  are  scattered  over 
the  floor.  The  background  consists  of  a  fold- 
ing screen  with  Japanese  houses  and  figures, 
painted  on  a  gold  ground.  These  two  pictures 
are  far  from  being  satisfactory.  The  compo- 
sition is  restless,  the  colours  do  not  harmonize, 
and  the  figure  is  one  of  that  peculiar  night- 
marish type  which  some  artists  affect ;  a  being 
belonging  to  that  peculiar  class  of  humanity 
who  wear  slouch  drapery  instead  of  tailor- 
made  costumes,  and  carry  crystal  balls,  urns 
and  sunflowers  as  an  aesthetic  amusement,  I 
suppose,  about  their  person. 

The  model  for  both  these  pictures  was  Jo- 
anna Heffernan,  an  Irish  girl,  neither  partic- 
ularly handsome  nor  well  educated;  but  she 
was  a  good  model,  who  adapted  herself  easily 


52  The  Whistler  Book 

to  a  painter's  idea,  and  her  native  wit  and  will- 
ingness to  learn  atoned  for  any  lack  of  knowl- 
edge. She  generally  read  while  she  was  po- 
sing for  Whistler,  and  as  she  talked  with  his 
friends,  posed  for  other  artists  and  visited  pic- 
ture exhibitions,  she  played  quite  an  impor- 
tant part  in  the  painter's  life  during  his  early 
years  in  London.  She  went  to  Paris  in  the 
winter  of  1861-2  to  pose  for  "  The  Woman 
in  White,"  in  his  studio  on  the  boulevard  des 
Battignoles.  He  painted  her  in  a  number  of 
other  pictures,  notably  as  "  Jo  "  and  "  The 
Little  White  Girl."  Although  different  in 
each  picture,  now  young,  now  more  mature, 
in  one  case  a  lady  and  in  another  a  buxom  girl, 
she  is  really  beautiful  in  none,  though  always 
attractive.  He  probably  merely  used  her  as 
a  suggestion.  He  liked  to  have  her  in  his 
studio  even  when  he  did  not  paint  her  form 
or  features.  There  is  also  a  dry  point  of 
"  Jo,"  dated  1861,  which  shows  her  with 
streaming  hair,  which  is  probably  the  nearest 
approach  to  a  likeness.  It  is  a  beautiful  bit 
of  drawing  and  interesting  as  a  space  arrange- 
ment. It  shows  how  a  head  can  almost  fill 
the  entire  space  of  a  picture  without  becoming 
obtrusive  or  looking  too  large.  The  line  work 
is  excellent  in  its  purity  of  design  and  appar- 
ent carelessness. 


Owned  by  Arthur  Studd 

SYMPHONY    IN    WHITE,    II :    THE    LITTLE    WHITE    GIRL. 


The  Butterfly  53 


A  change  of  method  is  noticeable  in  "  The 
Little  White  Girl,"  the  colour  scheme  of  which 
is  exquisite.  The  white  dress  of  the  young 
girl,  in  profile,  with  loosened  hair,  leaning 
against  a  mantelpiece,  and  her  reflection  in  the 
glass,  are  accentuated  in  a  beautiful  manner 
by  the  brilliant  colour  notes  of  a  red  lacquer 
box,  a  blue  and  white  vase,  a  fan  with  a  Hiro- 
shige-like  design  and  a  decorative  arrange- 
ment of  pink  and  purple  azaleas.  The  paint- 
ing is  thinner  and  there  is  greater  repose  in  the 
composition.  Swinburne  saw  the  picture  be- 
fore it  was  sent  up  to  the  Royal  Academy  in 
1865,  and  expressed  his  admiration  by  writing 
"  Before  the  Mirror.  Verses  under  a  Pic- 
ture:" 


"  Come  snow,  come  wind  or  thunder, 
High  up  in  the  air 
I  watch  my  face  and  wonder 
At  my  bright  hair. 
Naught  else  exalts  or  grieves 
The  rose  at  heart  that  heaves 
With  love  of  our  own  leaves,  and  lips  that  pair. 

"  I  cannot  tell  what  pleasures 
Or  what  pains  were, 
What  pale  new  loves  and  treasures 
New  Years  will  bear, 
What  beam  will  fall,  what  shower 
With  grief  or  joy  for  dower. 
But  one  thing  knows  the  flower,  the  flower  is  fair." 


54 The  Whistler  Book 

"  La  Princesse  du  Pays  de  la  Porcelaine  " 
(Whistler  apparently  was  fond  of  using  elab- 
orate titles)  is  perhaps  his  finest  work  in  vivid 
colouring.  The  colour  differentiations  are  well 
placed,  but  the  canvas,  after  all,  looks  too  much 
like  a  huge  Japanese  print,  painted  in  the 
Western  style,  which  represents  objects  round 
and  in  relief,  and  not  merely  in  flat  tints.  The 
placing  of  the  screen  with  the  face  looming 
above  it  is  as  peculiar  as  it  is  attractive,  but 
it  is  an  arrangement  that  is  strictly  Japanese 
in  character.  Whistler  began  with  painting 
detail,  and  only  gradually  learned  to  see  life 
in  a  broader  and  more  mysterious  way.  It  is 
a  portrait  of  Miss  Christie  Spartali,  a  real 
Rossetti  type,  daughter  of  the  Consul-General 
for  Greece  in  London  in  1863.  Her  father  did 
not  like  it;  but  Rossetti  did,  and  sold  it  from 
his  own  studio  to  help  Whistler  along.  Later 
it  came  into  the  possession  of  F.  R.  Leyland, 
and  was  used  to  decorate  the  "  Peacock 
Room."  It  was  first  exhibited  at  the  Paris 
Salon  of  1865.  It  is  really  a  combination  of 
Rossetti  and  Outomaro,  with  a  slight  flavour 
of  Whistler's  individuality. 

"  On  the  Balcony  "  (exhibited  first  in  1866) 
of  the  Freer  collection  is  a  peculiar  combina- 
tion of  models  masquerading  in  kimonos  and 
a  background  of  English  river  scenery.  He 


National  Gallery,  Washington 

ON  THE  BALCONY:  VARIATIONS  IN  FLESH-COLOUR  AND  GREEN. 


The  Butterfly  55 


essayed  the  same  task  as  Chavannes  in  his 
mural  decorations,  i.  e.,  to  determine  the  local 
tints  of  each  face  or  arm  by  the  surrounding 
colours.  The  problem  was  made  still  more  dif- 
ficult by  showing  each  face  in  a  different  illu- 
mination. One  face  is  silhouetted  in  profile 
against  the  river,  another  shaded  by  a  fan  and 
the  form  of  a  standing  figure,  the  others  are 
seen  in  front  light.  I  do  not  believe  he  has 
ever  attempted  a  more  ambitious  problem,  and 
he  solved  it  in  a  most  subtle  and  convincing 
fashion.  It  is  a  delightful  harmony  in  colour, 
and  exceedingly  well-balanced ;  it  reminds  one 
of  the  Japanese,  but  the  colour  and  vibrating 
atmosphere  is  Occidental.  Pity  that  he  found 
it  necessary  to  introduce  Japanese  costumes.  I 
perfectly  realize  that  one  of  the  principal 
charms  of  this  picture  is  the  incongruity  of  the 
ensemble.  Yet  who  ever  saw  in  a  London 
town  such  a  balcony  with  Japanese  awnings, 
and  English  girls  dressed  up  like  geishas,  whil- 
ing  away  the  early  hours  of  the  night.  The 
figures  belong  neither  to  Japan  nor  Great 
Britain.  They  are  simply  there  for  colour's 
sake,  but,  after  all,  such  associations  of 
thought,  no  matter  whether  in  paint  or  poetry, 
never  constitute  the  greatest  art.  The  com- 
position is  more  restful  and  simpler  than  in 
his  earlier  works.  When  Whistler  began  to 


56  The  Whistler  Book 

realize  this  shortcoming  of  his  earlier  style,  he 
turned  away  from  "  orchestral  explosions  of 
colour  "  and  "  volleys  of  paint,"  and  began 
that  wonderful  process  of  elimination  which 
helped  him  to  become  one  of  the  greatest  paint- 
ers of  the  nineteenth  century. 

In  his  later  work  Whistler  returned  once 
more  to  vivid  colouring.  It  was  solely  in  pas- 
tels and  water  colours,  never  in  oils.  And  the 
butterfly,  the  symbol  of  Whistler's  individu- 
ality, fluttered  gaily  from  picture  to  picture, 
from  print  to  print,  and  letter  to  letter;  now 
disappearing  in  greyish  mists,  then  peeping 
forth  from  a  dark  olive  background,  and  again 
asserting  his  existence  at  times  as  a  mere 
shadow,  as  a  dark  or  coral  red  silhouette. 
Changing  his  colour  and  size  on  every  canvas, 
he  is  now  shaded  blue,  brown,  rose,  red,  violet 
or  peacock  blue  and  then,  suddenly  assuming 
unusually  large  proportions,  he  spreads  his 
wings  in  full  flight  to  be  lost  once  more  as  a 
grey,  almost  imperceptible  spot,  in  some  twi- 
light atmosphere.  At  one  moment  he  appears 
on  a  vase,  a  rug,  or  a  curtain.  He  floats  on 
the  sea,  rest  on  doorposts,  wings  his  way  over 
flowers  and  rocks,  shifts  sportively  from  the 
lower  left  to  the  right  corner,  thereupon  rises 
to  almost  the  middle  of  the  canvas,  flutters 
around  the  figures,  even  touches  their  forms 


The  Butterfly 


delicately,  as  a  dainty  creature  may  do,  and 
continues  his  endless  variations  and  gyrations; 
ever  ready  to  assert  the  final  approval  of  the 
master. 


THE   ART   OF   OMISSION 

A  BLUE-BLACK  night,  broken  by  sparks  of 
bursting  skyrockets  and  weird  forms  of  light, 
in  which  two  illuminated  towers  are  vaguely 
indicated.  To  the  left  a  cluster  of  foliage  and 
a  crowd  of  people,  felt  rather  than  seen.  Such 
is  the  subject  matter  of  this  little  17  x  23  can- 
vas which  probably  excited  more  controversy 
and  discussion  than  any  other  of  Whistler's 
pictures.  It  was  scarcely  noticed  when  it  was 
first  exhibited  at  the  Dudley  Gallery  in  Octo- 
ber. But  in  1877  the  storm  broke  loose,  and 
the  famous  libel  suit  against  Ruskin,  and  the 
record  of  all  details  of  the  trial  in  a  brown- 
covered  pamphlet,  under  the  title  "  Whistler 
v.  Ruskin,  Art  and  Art  Critics"  (in  1878), 
were  the  immediate  results.  And  the  discus- 
sion con  or  pro  has  not  ceased  to  this  very  day. 
Some  call  it  merely  a  clever  sketch;  others 
consider  it  one  of  the  highest  expressions 
beauty  is  capable  of. 

What  is  there  so  remarkable  and  fascinating 
in  this  picture,  that  it  can  exercise  such  an  in- 

58 


Owned  by  Mrs.  Samuel  Untermyer 

NOCTURNE  IN  BLACK  AND  GOLD:  THE  FALLING  ROCKET. 


The  Art  of  Omission  59 

fluence!  Technically  it  is  not  perfect,  the 
blacks  are  rather  opaque,  and  it  does  not  pos- 
sess the  haunting  charm  of  the  "  Old  Batter- 
sea  Bridge  "  or  even  of  the  "  Valparaiso  Har- 
bour." 

Is  it  the  subject  matter?  Fireworks  were 
never  painted  before,  or,  at  least,  did  not  con- 
stitute the  sole  motif  of  a  picture.  Yet  this 
should  be  no  objection.  Fireworks  are  one  of 
the  modern  amusements  that  enjoy  great  pop- 
ularity. There  should  be  no  objection  to  their 
representation,  as  little  as  to  a  baseball  game, 
a  prize  fight  or  any  realistic  phase  of  our  per- 
sonal life.  The  curious  interest  of  this  paint- 
ing, or  any  of  Whistler's  nocturnes,  does  not 
lie  merely  in  the  novelty  of  the  subject  (i.  e. 
novel  to  pictorial  representation),  nor  that  it 
depicts  the  mystery  of  night  in  an  unusual 
manner,  as  some  artists  and  writers  claim. 

Its  significance  lies  much  deeper.  It  actu- 
ally represents  the  beginning  of  a  new  way  of 
painting,  not  merely  of  atmospheric  condi- 
tions, but  of  an  art  different  in  its  intentions 
from  any  previous  form  of  representation. 

During  the  trial  Whistler  himself  gave  the 
following  definition  of  a  nocturne: 

"  I  have  perhaps  meant  rather  to  indicate 
an  artistic  interest  alone  in  the  work,  divesting 
the  picture  of  any  sort  of  interest  which  might 


60  The  Whistler  Book 

have  been  otherwise  attached  to  it.  It  is  an 
arrangement  of  line,  form  and  colour  first,  and 
I  make  use  of  any  incident  which  shall  bring 
about  a  symmetrical  result.  Among  my  works 
are  some  night  pieces,  and  I  have  chosen  the 
word  '  Nocturne '  because  it  generalizes  and 
simplifies  the  whole  set  of  them." 

After  Whistler  had  stated  that  he  had 
worked  two  days  on  the  "  Falling  Rocket," 
the  General  Attorney  said: 

'  The  labour  of  two  days,  then,  is  that  for 
what  you  ask  two  hundred  guineas?  " 

To  which  Whistler  replied : 

"  No  —  I  ask  it  for  the  knowledge  of  a  life- 
time." 

This  is  hardly  a  satisfactory  explanation. 
It  merely  informs  us  that  the  consideration  of 
line,  form  and  colour  is  more  important  than 
the  incident  depicted.  Have  not  all  painters 
worked  in  that  way!  The  actual  manipula- 
tion of  the  pigment  on  the  canvas  is  the 
supreme  pleasure  of  every  genuine  painter. 
But  the  source  of  inspiration  after  all  lies  in 
the  incident  that  is  in  the  line,  form  and  colour 
indicated  by  the  incident.  Or  does  Whistler 
wish  to  convince  us  that  he  mentally  invented  a 
colour  scheme  and  then  set  out  to  find  the  inci- 
dent? He  might  have  said  to  himself,  "  I  wrant 
to  paint  a  night  scene,  in  blue  and  gold,  and 


The  Art  of  Omission  61 

I  want  such  a  silhouette  to  dominate  the 
scene,"  but,  after  all,  the  incident  had  to  fur- 
nish, or  rather  suggest,  the  possibilities  of  the 
mental  vision.  He,  more  than  most  painters, 
saw  poetry  in  nature.  His  wonderful  descrip- 
tion of  a  river  scene  at  night  in  the  "  Ten 
O'clock  "  vouches  for  that.  Read  these  lines 
that  are  worthy  of  any  poet : 

'  When  the  evening  mist  clothes  the  river- 
side with  '  poetry  '  as  with  a  veil,  and  the  poor 
buildings  lose  themselves  in  the  dim  sky  and 
the  tall  chimneys  become  campanile,  and  the 
warehouses  are  palaces  in  the  night,  and  the 
whole  city  hangs  in  the  heavens,  and  the  fairy 
land  is  before  us  —  then  the  wayfarer  hastens 
home,  the  workman  and  the  cultured  one,  the 
wise  and  the  one  of  pleasures  cease  to  under- 
stand as  they  have  ceased  to  see,  and  nature, 
who  for  once  has  sung  in  tune,  sings  her  ex- 
quisite song  to  the  artist  alone,  her  son  and  her 
master;  her  son  in  that  he  loves  her,  and  her 
master  in  that  he  knows  her." 

A  man  who  wrote  like  that  surely  received 
his  inspirations  from  nature,  and  was  depend- 
ent on  the  incident  as  much  as  anybody  else. 
No,  the  true  significance  of  his  nocturne,  as 
remarked  before,  lies  in  the  original  intention, 
not  in  the  final  effect  of  the  subject  he  wished  to 
produce.  For  conventionalist  and  impression- 


62  The  Whistler  Book 

1st  alike,  nature  is  the  source  of  symbols  for 
their  mood.  With  them  the  standpoint  is  re- 
markably different  from  that  of  the  superficial 
realists,  who  imagine  that  the  mere  copy  of 
a  scene  must  give  the  emotion  that  the  scene 
itself  arouses;  who  forget  that  the  artist's 
emotion  is  as  much  a  selective  factor  as  his 
vision  of  the  objective  signs  needful  for  the 
communication  of  his  feeling  to  his  public. 

He  probably  wished  to  remain  under  cover, 
and  not  come  out  boldly  and  say:  '  This  is 
the  Japanese  way  of  doing  things.  I  disen- 
gage the  poetical  significance  from  an  object 
or  fact  in  Eastern  fashion.  I  have  learned  this 
from  the  Hiroshige  prints." 

Few  artists  are  willing  to  lay  bare  the  mech- 
anism of  their  individual  way  of  interpreta- 
tion. They  would  be  misunderstood  anyhow. 
Painters  would  have  rejoiced  to  call  him  a 
downright  imitator.  And  that  is  just  the  point 
where  he  differed  from  the  average  artist  who 
followed  the  Eastern  trail  of  art.  He  suc- 
ceeded in  combining  the  two  great  art  elements 
of  the  world,  those  of  the  East  and  the  West. 
In  the  sixties  he  was  interested  merely  in  a 
phase  of  Japanese  art,  that  of  colour.  Hiro- 
shige prints  were  hung  on  the  wall  or  scattered 
on  the  floor  of  his  studio,  as  can  be  noted  in 
several  of  his  earlier  paintings.  The  Japanese 


The  Art  of  Omission  63 

artists  were  virtuosos  of  colour.  They  com- 
bined the  most  contradictory  colours  into  a 
harmony,  nuances  which  for  centuries  had  es- 
caped the  appreciation  of  the  European  eye. 
After  many  experiments  Whistler  realized 
that  this  refined  sense  of  colour  was  only  one 
of  the  external  accomplishments  of  Japanese 
art,  that  its  true  soul  was  revealed  in  its  sug- 
gestive quality. 

The  Japanese  artists  work  without  perspec- 
tive, shadows  and  reflections,  and  even  when 
they  apply  them  they  do  so  in  a  purely  decora- 
tive way.  They  rely  entirely  on  design,  on  line 
and  the  juxtaposition  of  flat  colour  shapes. 
They  do  not  care  to  produce  an  illusion,  as  if 
the  frame  afforded  a  view  on  a  scene  of  actual 
life.  They  are  satisfied  with  making  a  mere 
delineation,  a  suggestion  of  a  beautiful  gown 
or  mountain  view. 

In  literature,  or  even  in  such  a  simple  mat- 
ter as  the  naming  of  things,  the  Japanese  in- 
variably give  play  to  the  exercise  of  their 
imagination  to  bring  out  a  suggestive  effect. 
The  same  tendency  extends  into  their  fine  arts. 
In  treating  objects  of  nature,  however  insig- 
nificant, the  Japanese  artist  strives  to  suggest 
or  indicate  some  sentiment  beyond  what  is  con- 
veyed by  the  facts  represented,  just  as  the  poet 
strives  to  store  up  a  mine  of  thought  in  the 


64  The  Whistler  Book 

thirty-one  syllables  of  an  ordinary  verse,  the 
Tanka,  or  in  the  still  shorter  Haikai  of  seven- 
teen syllables.  In  short,  the  Japanese  artist 
exerts  himself  to  produce  more  than  beauty  of 
form  or  colour.  This  quality  is  less  apparent 
in  the  coloured  wood  print  so  popular  with 
Westerners.  An  Outomaro  is  really  lacking 
suggestiveness.  It  runs  too  much  into  tech- 
nical detail,  and  just  for  that  reason  perhaps 
we  more  readily  understand  the  European 
artists. 

Take  for  instant  a  simple  representation  of 
summer  plants,  merely  a  few  stalks.  The  artist 
is  not  satisfied  to  show  us  the  actual  facts  but 
endeavours  to  indicate  something  beyond  what 
is  actually  represented,  the  delight  of  a  flowery 
field  in  summer  or  the  cool  refreshing  breeze 
under  which  the  plants  are  bending  and  sway- 
ing. 

The  Western  artists  hitherto  entertained  a 
different  ideal  and  though  there  were  many 
schools,  each  advocating  a  different  ideal,  they 
all  agreed  on  one  point:  that  they  had  to  cre- 
ate an  illusion,  with  modelling,  rotundity  of 
form,  light,  shade  and  distance.  Suggesting 
a  fact  is  subtler  than  actually  representing  a 
fact.  A  sketch  has  something,  a  virility  and 
freshness  that  a  finished  painting  rarely  has. 
We  prefer  Courbet  to  Ingres,  Israels  to  Leigh- 


The  Art  of  Omission  65 

ton.  There  must  be  something  left  to  imag- 
ination, to  our  emotions  and  aesthetic  conscious- 
ness. The  Japanese  leave  most  to  imagina- 
tion. Their  method  lacks  strength  but  is  capa- 
ble of  conveying  finer  poetic  sentiments.  Their 
vision  is  clearer,  more  rapid  and  less  disturbed 
by  intellectual  preoccupations  than  ours.  They 
are  perhaps  more  perceptual  than  conceptual. 
Not  that  they  lack  deep  poignant  expression, 
but  that  they  are  deficient  in  intensity  and 
depth  of  representation.  The  grandiose  unity 
of  effect  of  a  Titian,  Tintoretto  or  Rubens  is 
beyond  the  kakemono  and  colour  print.  They 
succeeded  in  some  instances  in  adumbrating 
in  lines  of  conventional  severity  and  precision 
strange  and  mystical  intimations  of  spiritual 
existence.  But  we  find  it  difficult  to  discern 
these  qualities  as  we  need  more  than  sugges- 
tion to  arrive  at  such  conclusions. 

Whistler  tried  and  succeeded  in  translating 
this  suggestiveness  in  such  a  manner  that  the 
Western  mind  could  understand  and  appre- 
ciate it.  How  did  he  accomplish  this  task! 
He  realized  that  he  could  not  abandon  atmos- 
phere, light  and  distance.  He  had  to  apply 
the  Eastern  principle  without  deteriorating 
the  Western  technique.  To  proceed  like  the 
Japanese  would  have  resulted  in  a  failure. 
His  "  Princess  of  the  Porcelain  Land  "  must 


66  The  Whistler  Book 

have  taught  him  this.  He  strove  for  something 
else  than  a  mere  resemblance.  He  adopted 
certain  ideas  of  space  arrangement,  certain 
forms  of  design  and  the  elimination  of  detail. 
The  underlying  composition  reminds  of  the 
Japanese,  but  not  the  finish. 

Hiroshige  was  the  first  designer  of  Japanese 
colour  prints  who  devoted  himself  largely  to 
landscapes  with  figures,  and  with  Eastern  in- 
genuity almost  exhausted  the  subject.  His 
"  Hundred  Views  of  Fusi-yama  "  contain  the 
most  startling  designs  and  problems  of  com- 
position that  have  ever  been  attempted,  and 
they  are  treated  with  incomparable  boldness, 
and  solved  with  astounding  skill.  The  rarest 
aspects  of  nature  are  treated  with  perfect  bal- 
ance. It  is  a  play  of  curves  and  geometrical 
shapes  that  bewilders  the  Western  mind  that 
has  been  content  with  comparatively  few 
formula?. 

The  vista  idea  of  representing  a  scene  as  if 
viewed  through  the  frame  of  a  doorway,  which 
Whistler  so  frequently  used  in  his  etchings  as 
in  "  The  Lime  Burner  "  and  "  The  Garden," 
is  strictly  Japanese.  One  of  his  friends  said 
that  Whistler  never  objected  to  any  one  try- 
ing to  copy  his  way  of  painting,  but  looked 
upon  filching  of  ideas  as  grand  larceny.  This 
proves  how  ignorant  we  all  are  about  our  con- 


Tote  Gallery,  London 

NOCTURNE  IN  BLUE  AND  GOLD: 


OLD  BATTERSEA  BRIDGE. 


The  Art  of  Omission  67 

duct  of  life.  If  anybody  ever  plagiarized  ideas 
it  was  Whistler.  The  "  T  "  shape  of  the  "  Old 
Battersea  Bridge,"  in  his  nocturne  of  blue  and 
gold,  is  almost  an  exact  copy  of  a  Hiroshige 
design.  The  same  can  be  said  of  the  branch 
of  leaves  protruding  like  a  silhouette  from  the 
margin  of  his  "  Ocean,"  and  the  composition 
of  several  other  nocturnes.  But  Whistler 
added  something  which  no  Japanese  print  sug- 
gests. He  added  light,  atmosphere,  distance 
and  mystery. 

Hiroshige  relied  entirely  upon  design  and 
line,  and  he  was  not  a  good  draughtsman  at 
that,  at  least  not  in  his  figures.  His  human 
figures  frequently  look  like  miniature  carica- 
tures or  curious  little  insects.  His  line  lacks 
purity  and  sweep,  but  is  more  realistic  and  less 
conventional  than  that  of  his  predecessors. 
His  colour  is  crude  in  comparison  with  the 
older  artists.  His  prints  that  were  executed 
after  the  introduction  of  European  aniline  col- 
ours in  1850,  with  their  streaks  of  vivid  red 
and  blue,  are  almost  offensive  to  the  eye.  His 
earlier  ones,  when  he  was  content  in  working 
in  pale  colours,  in  pale  blue  and  black  with  just 
a  suggestion  of  pink,  are  vastly  superior. 
Later  on  he  tried  to  learn  from  the  Europeans, 
and  strove  for  atmospheric  effects,  but  always 
suggested  it  rather  by  design  than  colour.  If 


68  The  Whistler  Book 

he  used  colour  for  that  purpose  it  went  never 
beyond  a  simple  wash. 

Whistler  sacrificed  line  almost  entirely.  He 
worked  in  big  masses,  shapes  and  silhouettes 
and  made  colour  the  principal  attraction.  The 
simplicity  of  design  he  borrowed  from  the 
Japanese,  but  the  intimate  charm  of  his  colour 
he  got  from  another  art,  the  art  of  music. 
Many  paintings  of  the  latter  half  of  the  nine- 
teenth century  show  this  musical  tendency. 
Chavannes,  Cazin,  our  American  landscape 
painter  Tryon,  even  the  Impressionists,  try  to 
produce  with  colour  something  similar  to  the 
effect  of  sound.  It  is  either  a  resemblance  of 
feeling  in  execution,  or  the  desire  to  deliver 
us  over  to  a  mood  like  music.  Generally  both 
desires  go  hand  in  hand. 

The  painter,  to  accomplish  this,  must  go 
back  to  the  emotional  elements  of  things,  to 
view  objects  with  primitive  enthusiasm  and 
to  disregard  all  cumbersome  detail.  These 
qualities  must  dominate  his  conception,  and 
his  treatment  must  be  slightly  decorative.  He 
must  see  things  flat,  in  curious  shapes,  and  then 
juxtapose  and  complement  his  colours  in  such 
fashion  that  they  produce  instantaneously  a 
pleasant  retinal  image.  In  most  paintings  the 
subject  matter  attracts  our  attention  first,  and 
the  appreciation  of  its  technique  reaches  our 


The  Art  of  Omission  69 

emotion  through  a  mental  process.  A  Cha- 
vannes  fresco  and  a  Cazin  landscape,  on  the 
other  hand,  appeal  directly  to  our  emotions. 
Henner,  Corot,  Carriere  are  musical,  Leigh- 
ton,  Dagnan-Bouveret,  Bocklin  are  not.  Cha- 
vannes  and  Tryon  construct  their  composi- 
tions like  a  composer  his  score.  By  applying 
parallelism  of  line  and  repetition  of  form  and 
colour  shapes  with  slight  variation,  they  at- 
tempt to  transpose  musical  conditions  to  the 
sphere  of  colour. 

Cazin  goes  further  than  either.  He  comes 
nearest  to  Whistler.  He  actually  tries  to 
make  the  colour  sing,  not  a  composition  of 
diversified  interests,  but  a  simple  sweet  melody 
that  instantaneously  produces  a  distinct  lyri- 
cal emotion.  In  his  best  pictures  he  reproduces 
successfully  the  perfect  harmony  of  a  few 
fugitive  tints,  such  as  occur  so  frequently  in 
nature  by  a  combination  of  the  evening  sky 
and  a  shimmering  surface  of  water,  by  a 
white  cottage  in  moonlight,  or  desolate 
marshes  against  a  starlit  sky.  In  this,  Whis- 
tler excelled.  He  advanced  another  step  by 
using  the  smallest  limit  of  colours  possible, 
without  obliterating  form  and  subject  matter. 
Although  Whistler  accentuated  the  breadth  of 
vision,  divided  his  space  arrangement  into  as 
few  planes  as  possible,  juxtaposed  rarely  more 


70  The  Whistler  Book 

than  two  colours,  and  made  all  objects  appear 
shadowy  and  weird  against  a  glimmering  sky, 
it  is  astonishing  how  vibrant  he  kept  his  colour ; 
the  more  so  as  his  colours  are  laid  on  rather 
flatly,  and,  occasionally,  so  thinly  that  the 
canvas  shines  through.  This,  of  course,  helps 
the  vibrating  quality,  but  the  colour  tints  con- 
tain so  many  subtle  variations  that  they 
scarcely  become  discernible  to  the  eye  but 
merely  conscious  as  a  vague  shimmer,  like  that 
of  night  and  atmosphere  themselves. 

The  colour  combinations  are  frequently  the 
same.  Blue  and  silver,  and  blue  and  gold  ap- 
pear most  frequently.  Then  there  is  brown 
with  gold  or  silver,  and  a  crepuscule  in  flesh 
colour  and  green,  which  was  also  the  theme 
of  "  On  the  Balcony." 

His  subjects  were  chosen  with  great  discre- 
tion. Outside  of  the  "  Valparaiso  Harbour  " 
picture,  a  "  Southampton  Water  "  and  a  "  St. 
Marks,  Venice,"  most  were  devoted  to  Lon- 
don. There  is  a  Chelsea  embankment  in  win- 
ter, a  Chelsea  in  snow  and  ice,  the  Westminster 
Bridge,  the  Trafalgar  Square  in  snow,  and  the 
old  Batter  sea  reach  and  bridge  in  three  ver- 
sions. Whistler  never  stopped  work  at  a 
picture  until  it  was  as  perfect  as  he  could  make 
it.  Many  of  the  pictures  that  are  now  on  the 
market,  mere  scraps  and  fragments  at  ridic- 


The  Art  of  Omission  71 

ulous  prices,  he  would  not  have  allowed  to  go 
out  of  his  studio.  He  had  the  conscience  of 
the  true  artist,  but  he  never  went  to  the  ex- 
treme. He  knew  when  to  stop,  a  quality  which 
is  exceedingly  rare.  He  would  never  have 
spoiled  a  canvas  as  Maris  and  Ryder  do.  He 
worked  very  hard  on  most  of  his  pictures,  but 
they  do  not  show  it.  The  difficulties  and  delib- 
erate slowness  of  execution  are  lost  in  the  final 
result.  "  To  say  of  a  picture,  as  it  is  often 
said  in  its  praise,  that  it  shows  great  and  ear- 
nest labour,  is  to  say  that  it  is  incomplete  and 
unfit  for  view."  He  followed  this  maxim  out 
to  the  letter.  Industry  was  with  him  a  neces- 
sity—  not  a  virtue.  Were  you  to  ask  me  to 
define  the  charm  of  his  nocturnes,  I  should  say, 
I  fancy  that  it  lies  in  the  delicious  purity  of 
their  expression.  The  emotions  which  Whis- 
tler wishes  to  excite  are  those  of  visional  pleas- 
ure, of  subtle  speculation  and  vague  emotional 
joy.  In  him  inspiration  always  prevailed  over 
caprice.  The  picture  had  first  to  express  the 
arrangement  of  colour  entrusted  to  it,  and  was 
scarcely  allowed  any  dash  or  extravagance  of 
brushwork  or  form,  unless  they  would  form  a 
part  of  his  original  plan  and  serve  as  a  con- 
trast or  dissonance.  He  never  added  anything 
in  his  repaintings,  but  cut  out  one  passage  after 
another;  he  did  not  graft  on,  he  pruned,  for 


72  The  Whistler  Book 

he  meant  nothing  should  remain  but  the  most 
essential.  If  there  was  ever  a  man  tormented 
by  the  accursed  ambition  to  put  the  whole 
world  into  one  picture,  the  whole  picture  into 
one  tonality,  and  the  whole  tonality  into  one 
colour  note,  it  was  Whistler.  It  is  difficult  to 
understand  why  his  work  was  ever  criticized 
as  being  unfinished.  When  Burne-Jones,  in 
a  spirit  hostile  to  Whistler's  work,  declared  in 
the  witness  box  at  the  Ruskin  trial:  "  In  my 
opinion  ...  a  picture  ought  not  to  fall  short 
of  what  has  been  for  ages  considered  as  com- 
plete and  finished,"  Whistler  retorted  effect- 
ively: "  A  picture  is  completely  finished  when 
nothing  more  can  be  done  to  improve  it." 

And  for  this  finish  he  tried  incessantly. 
There  was  never  an  artist  who  was  more  con- 
scientious and  more  ardently  striving  for  per- 
fection than  he.  He  sometimes  tried  experi- 
ments with  different  mediums  in  oil  painting. 
At  one  time  he  used  benzine  to  thin  the  colours, 
another  time  kerosene.  He  would  cover  a  large 
canvas  all  over  with  the  latter,  in  order  to  bring 
out  the  dried  tints,  before  he  started  to  re- 
paint or  overpaint.  And  he  said  to  Clifford 
Adams,  his  last  apprentice,  "  In  the  morning 
we  may  not  succeed  in  getting  the  direct  rela- 
tion of  colour,  but  at  noon  it  may  become  more 
harmonious  and  at  sundown  we  might  strike 


The  Art  of  Omission  73 

just  the  right  thing."  And  so  he  worked,  day 
after  day  and  year  after  year,  on  his  pictures, 
until  every  trace  of  labour  was  obliterated  and 
the  picture  had  become  a  masterpiece.  "  A 
masterpiece  that  would  appear  as  a  flower  "  to 
the  painter  —  perfect  in  its  bud  as  in  its  bloom 
—  with  no  reason  to  explain  its  presence,  no 
mission  to  fulfil;  a  joy  to  the  artist,  a  delusion 
to  the  philanthropist  —  a  puzzle  to  the  botan- 
ist—  an  accident  of  sentiment  to  the  literary 


man." 


This  flatly  contradicts  the  general  idea  ram- 
pant among  painters  that  he  furnished  his 
paintings  au  premier  coup.  His  friends  en- 
dorse the  denial.  Mr.  R.  A.  Canfield  has  seen 
not  less  than  sixteen  changes  of  background  to 
one  portrait,  "  and  heaven  knows  how  many 
more  that  were  not  counted."  Whenever  he 
was  dissatisfied  with  a  painting,  he  started  a 
new  canvas  until  he  finally  realized  the  task  he 
had  attempted.  In  that  sense  his  colleagues  are 
right,  his  pictures  look  as  if  they  were  painted 
au  premier  coup,  but  it  was  a  roundabout  way. 
It  is  impossible  to  advance  any  theory  about 
his  technique.  All  his  pictures  are  painted  in 
varying  thicknesses  of  paint,  in  varying  de- 
grees of  liquidity  of  paint,  in  varying  smooth- 
ness and  roughness,  in  few  or  many  sittings, 
in  fact,  in  the  varying  technique  which  alone 


74  The  Whistler  Book 

can  correspond  to  moods  of  so  great  a  painter 
and  the  circumstances  of  each  picture. 

The  only  thing  which  has  any  semblance  to 
a  constant  method  is  a  moderate  adherence,  in 
his  portraits  at  least,  to  the  old  way  of  paint- 
ing from  dark  to  light  which,  in  the  final 
painting,  in  overlapping  pieces  of  paint,  as  in 
the  case  of  most  oil  paintings  until  recently, 
results  in  the  thickening  of  the  paint  towards 
the  light. 

There  are  scarcely  more  than  sixteen  fin- 
ished nocturnes  on  record.  Of  these,  most  are 
masterpieces,  or  would  pass  as  belonging  to 
the  best  of  his  works.  And  as  he  worked  at 
them  ever  since  he  returned  from  Valparaiso 
in  1866  and  held  the  first  important  exhibition 
of  nocturnes  at  the  Dowdswell  Gallery,  and  in 
Paris  (in  the  Rue  Seze)  not  previous  to  1883, 
when  quite  a  number  were  still  unfinished,  we 
are  astonished  at  the  small  output.  But  mas- 
terpieces are  scarce.  And  if  a  painter  can  be 
credited  with  two  or  three  every  year  he  is  a 
hero  in  his  profession. 

The  importance  of  the  nocturne  in  Whis- 
tler's own  career,  everybody  must  realize  who 
is  familiar  with  his  work.  They  add  to  his  per- 
sonality a  delicious  flavour  that  even  his  litho- 
graphs and  large  paintings  do  not  grant  in  the 
same  manner.  It  was  to  him  an  instrument 


The  Art  of  Omission  75 

that  obeyed  his  slightest  wishes.  It  was  art, 
at  once  aristocratic,  delicate,  of  high  finish  and 
moreover  imbued  with  an  individual  rhythm 
and  the  poetry  of  nature. 

What  wonderful  rain  and  snow  this  man  has 
painted !  What  vast  expanses  of  water  as  mys- 
tic as  the  night !  And  those  vagrant  mists,  that 
envelop  everything  and  blot  out  the  very  exist- 
ence of  things!  There  has  not  been  anything 
in  art  since  Turner  that  could  be  compared 
with  it.  There  are  no  banal  sunsets,  no  glaring 
moonlights,  only  the  more  intricate  moods  of 
nature,  snowfall,  mist,  late  evening  and  night. 
Also  in  the  choice  of  his  subject  he  added  a  new 
note. 

The  art  of  a  landscape  painter  is  determined 
by  a  thousand  influences  upon  his  mind  other 
than  those  of  nature.  The  essence  of  Monet's 
art  is  one  of  an  hour,  but  with  such  a  painter 
as  Daubigny  or  Rousseau  it  is  one  of  a  place. 
There  is  the  sense  of  the  atmosphere  of  the 
moment  given  by  one  school  of  landscape  paint- 
ers, of  locality  by  another,  poetry  by  a  third 
and  of  the  historic  associations  of  a  place  by 
yet  another  school.  These  things  are,  of  course, 
determined  by  temperament,  and  schools  of 
painting  may  be  classified  in  this  way  more 
adequately  than  they  are.  Human  association 
creeps  into1  landscapes  in  various  degrees,  and 


76 The  Whistler  Book 

also  in  other  ways  than  the  historical  way  which 
we  feel,  —  as  in  F.  E.  Church's  pictures,  for 
instance,  —  but  landscape,  generally  subordi- 
nate to  the  human  interest,  now  sometimes  tries 
to  free  itself  from  this  influence  entirely.  It 
has  become  like  poetry,  simply  the  record  of  an 
emotion  or  mood  remembered  in  colour.  This 
is  Whistler's  peculiar  innovation. 

And  yet  the  final  significance  of  the  nocturne 
in  the  world  of  art  is  still  an  open  question. 
Time  alone  can  decide  its  value.  The  rest  is 
mere  hypothesis.  Many  —  and  I  only  talk  of 
people  who  understand  —  argue  that  despite 
its  perfection,  the  nocturne  represents  a  minor 
phase  of  art.  Of  course,  a  nocturne,  no  matter 
how  beautiful,  cannot  compete  in  importance 
with  the  "  Portrait  of  Carlyle,"  or  "  The  Ar- 
tist's Mother."  Size  does  not  mean  much,  but 
it  means  something.  A  small  painting  can  be 
as  exquisite  in  workmanship  as  a  large  one,  but 
it  can  never  rise  to  the  same  dignity  of  expres- 
sion. A  f rescoe  by  Chavannes  would  lose  much 
if  executed  in  the  size  of  the  average  easel 
picture. 

But  the  nocturne  stands  for  something  in 
modern  art  which  lends  it  special  importance, 
aside  of  all  workmanship  and  beauty  of  pic- 
torial treatment.  It  represents  a  return  to  the 
art  of  painting  for  painting's  sake.  Every  art, 


The  Art  of  Omission 77 

may  it  be  music,  poetry,  dancing,  sculpture  or 
painting,  has  its  own  peculiar  technique,  which 
the  technically  ignorant  person  cannot  appre- 
ciate. Poetry  which  has  no  formal  conventions 
is  inconceivable.  And,  in  a  similar  manner, 
painting  has  the  charm  of  texture  and  brush- 
work,  the  charm  of  how  the  paint  is  actually 
put  on  and  displayed  on  the  canvas.  The  aes- 
thetic satisfaction  derived  from  an  art  is  in 
exact  proportion  to  one's  knowledge  of  the 
art's  technique. 

This  largely  explains  the  general  public's 
indifference  to  art.  And  the  everlasting  fight 
between  the  artist  and  the  public  has  been  on 
these  lines.  The  plea  of  the  modern  experi- 
mentist  that  all  poetry  of  painting  should  be 
in  the  paint,  which  also  Whistler  advanced,  is 
a  just  one  if  not  carried  to  extremes.  Absolute 
paucity  of  idea  is  as  unfavourable  as  story- 
telling. The  intrinsic  beauty  of  a  painting  lies 
in  the  method  of  painting,  and  the  only  guide 
for  the  painter  is  colour  and  the  general  ar- 
rangement —  not  a  method  learned  by  rote,  not 
an  arrangement  garroted  by  a  thousand  rules 
which  others  have  invented,  but  that  personal 
style  or  rhythm  which  is  inveterately  the  paint- 
er's own.  So  Whistler's  style  is  beautiful  be- 
cause it  is  personal.  His  revolt  was  against 
story-telling,  against  the  genre  pictures,  which 


78  The  Whistler  Book 

adulterated  painting  with  the  skill  of  the  novel 
writer.  It  is  for  future  aesthetics  to  decide 
whether  the  introduction  of  musical  ideals  is 
not  just  as  dangerous  as  the  intermixture  of 
any  other  art.  There  is  no  doubt,  however, 
that  the  new  combination  grants  a  higher  pleas- 
ure to  the  connoisseur  at  present.  Music  is  the 
most  fashionable  and,  perhaps,  most  widely 
understood  art  to-day. 

This  be  as  it  may,  Whistler  did  a  great 
service  to  modern  art.  By  realizing  its  limita- 
tions he  bestowed  upon  it  a  new  vitality  and 
glow.  His  art,  far  from  being  lawless,  is  the 
expression  of  a  new  law.  Make  any  kind  of 
pictures  you  like,  dear  painters,  provided  they 
are  beautiful.  For  each  age  there  is  a  dif- 
ferent beauty.  Old  forms  and  old  perfections 
wither. 

There  has  been  too  much  story-telling.  The 
David  school,  with  its  pompous  historical,  alle- 
gorical and  mythological  representations,  has 
become  intolerable  to  us.  David,  Vernet,  etc., 
up  to  Ingres  and  Delaroche  all  seem  lifeless. 
Also  the  Romanticists,  who  were  the  interpre- 
ters of  poets,  appear  highstrung  to  more  re- 
cent art  ideas.  The  reaction  was  inevitable. 
The  Impressionists  —  and  their  merit  lies  prin- 
cipally in  that  their  work  represents  a  technical 
reaction  —  went  too  far,  inasmuch  as  it  allows 


The  Art  of  Omission  79 

scarcely  any  scope  to  intellectual  expansion. 
It  is  based  on  immediate  vision,  and  occupies 
itself  only  with  the  consideration  of  light  and 
colour,  and  keen  observation  of  modern  life. 
All  the  great  painters  met  the  public  half  way. 
The  great  painters,  we  need  only  to  recall  Rem- 
brandt, Velasquez  or  Leonardo,  were  painters 
as  much  as  they  were  poets,  but  each  in  equal 
measure.  The  qualities  balanced  each  other, 
and  they  did  not,  like  the  modern  painters,  sac- 
rifice one  for  the  other. 

Whistler  has  to  be  classified  as  an  Impres- 
sionist, but  he  remained  true  to  the  old  tradi- 
tion. He  was  as  much  a  reactionist  against 
classic  and  romantic  painting  as  any  of  them; 
but  he  had  no  use  for  the  new  technique.  Like 
Monet,  he  went  back  to  Velasquez  and  Goya, 
Franz  Hals,  Van  Dyke  and  all  the  Old  Mas- 
ters who  could  paint.  Like  Courbet,  he  re- 
duced a  scene  to  three  or  four  broad  tones,  but 
he  was  more  exact  in  the  grade  of  tones,  and 
invariably  endeavoured  to  explain  the  senti- 
ment inspired  by  them.  His  work  was  never 
anti  intellectual.  On  the  contrary  he  was  a  true 
visionary. 

He  protested  against  literary  elements,  but 
emphasized  the  psychological  and  symbolical 
qualities  of  painting.  Nobody  was  further 
remote  from  gross  superficial  realism.  Like 


80  The  Whistler  Book 

Flaubert  and  the  Goncourts,  he  proved  that 
realism  can  go  hand  in  hand  with  refined  form 
and  delicate  psychology.  He  was  sane 
throughout.  And  that  is  why  the  aesthetic  revo- 
lution, produced  by  him,  is  not  yet  at  an  end. 

The  first  principle  for  the  painter  is  to  ac- 
quire a  personal  mode  of  feeling  and  thinking, 
and  the  second  that  he  should  find  an  adequate 
and  personal  method  of  expressing  himself. 
The  painter  must  choose  his  method.  If  he  has 
only  the  old  themes  to  paint  the  old  forms  will 
suit  him  well  enough  —  portraits  and  single 
figures,  landscapes  and  marines,  cattle  pictures 
and  still  life  —  but  if  he  has  anything  special 
to  say,  he  must  find  for  himself  a  special  and 
unique  form  of  expression.  The  only  criterion 
is  beauty. 


CHAPTER  V 

ON  LIGHT  AND  TONE  PROBLEMS 

IN  his  "  Art  in  the  Netherlands,"  and  his 
various  books  on  Italian  art,  H.  Taine  has 
maintained  that  the  hand  of  the  mediaeval 
painter  was  largely  guided  by  optical  sensa- 
tions. And,  following  this  rather  suggestive, 
than  conclusive,  trend  of  argument,  we  will 
readily  perceive  that  the  peculiar  lighting  con- 
ditions of  those  days,  the  semi-darkness  of  the 
interiors,  the  play  of  sunlight  dying  in  the  ob- 
scurity of  shadows,  and  the  absence  of  strong 
artificial  lights  have  done  much  to  disclose  ta 
the  genius  of  a  Titian  and  a  Rembrandt  the 
manifold  harmonies  of  chiaroscura,  of  colour- 
ing, modelling  and  emotion.  The  tallow  can- 
dle, the  oil  lamp,  the  torch  and  the  open  fire- 
place were  the  only  artificial  light  appliances 
known  to  the  Middle  Ages,  and  they  were  all 
only  like  solitary  rays  of  light  in  universal 
darkness.  Illumine  a  room  by  night,  by  plac- 
ing a  candle  on  the  table  or  on  the  floor,  and 
judge  for  yourself.  The  effects  obtained,  no 

81 


82  The  Whistler  Book 

doubt,  would  appear  to  you  as  weird  and  pic- 
turesque. The  flickering  light  is  uncertain,  the 
shadows  are  intensely  dark  and  pronounced, 
almost  crude  and  vacillating,  as  if  engaged  in 
a  continual  combat  with  light.  The  contrasts 
are  startling,  yet  not  discordant,  the  vague 
train  of  light  mingled  with  shadows  accentuate 
only  a  few  places  with  vivid  spots,  perchance 
the  polished  surface  of  a  piece  of  furniture,  a 
glass  or  pewter  mug  on  the  table,  the  collaret  or 
jewelled  belt  of  some  fair  lady.  The  eye  is  led 
to  noticing  gradations  of  obscurity,  the  dark- 
ness grows  animated  with  colour  and  form,  and 
we  see  the  objects  as  through  a  glaze  of  Van 
Dyke  brown. 

No  wonder  that  the  painter  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  having  become  sensible  to  the  beauty  of 
transparent  darkness  and  the  brilliant  passages 
of  light,  dared  to  unite  extremes  and  to  show 
every  form  and  colour  in  its  full  strength.  The 
vagueness  of  chiaroscural  effects  was  the  great 
modifier  which  enveloped  all  adjacent  objects 
in  clair  obscure  and  tempered  them  with  a 
warm  and  mellow  radiance. 

How  different  are  the  conditions  in  our  time. 
There  are  no  more  Schalcken  or  Rembrandt 
effects.  We  have  succeeded  in  banishing  dark- 
ness from  our  homes.  We  have  become  very 
sanitary,  we  want  light  and  air,  the  walls  of 


Courtesy  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum,  New  York 
LADY    IN    GRAY. 


On  Light  and  Tone  Problems        83 

houses  are  built  less  substantial,  and  through 
the  increased  largeness  and  transparency  of 
panes,  the  daylight  streams  in  with  dazzling 
vehemence.  It  penetrates  into  the  remotest 
nooks  and  corners.  Even  at  dawn  the  shadows 
are  only  vaguely  dark,  of  an  uncertain  and 
mixed  bluish  grey.  Lenbach,  the  portrait 
painter,  realized  this  deficiency,  and  found  it 
necessary  to  construct  a  special  studio,  where 
the  light  was  only  sparingly  admitted  through 
deep  casements,  and  where  the  sitters  for  his 
old-master-like  interpretations  of  modern 
characters  were  placed  far  away  from  the  win- 
dows. 

The  greatest  havoc  among  chiaroscural 
effects,  however,  has  been  played  by  modern 
light  appliances.  Gas  and  electric  light,  with 
their  various  modifiers  and  intensifies,  have 
killed  all  the  old  ideals.  There  are  no  longer 
any  striking  chiaroscural  contrasts  or  strong 
accentuations.  In  the  Middle  Ages  dress  and 
drapery  showed  depth  of  folds  and  recesses 
which  are  absolutely  unknown  to-day.  Now, 
everything  is  diffused  with  light.  Nothing  is 
steady  and  fixed,  and  yet  objects  stand  out  in 
painful  relief.  The  modelling  has  lost  much 
of  its  tonal  variety,  and  all  objects  vaguely  re- 
flect the  imprint  of  all-pervading  light.  The 
values  of  colour  appear  bleached  and  vary  in- 


84  The  Whistler  Book 

cessantly.  Our  eyes  are  perpetually  moving 
in  a  restless  manner  from  one  part  to  another, 
and  no  longer  find  any  place  to  rest  in  the 
depth  of  shadows. 

Luckily  for  us,  we  have  been  rendered  un- 
conscious of  these  dangers,  we  have  grown  ac- 
customed to  them,  but  their  influence  on  mod- 
ern painting  has  been  a  most  palpable  one. 
Chiaroscural  composition  underwent  a  com- 
plete transformation.  Saliency  of  object  in- 
duced the  modern  painter  for  a  time,  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  last  century,  to  strive  solely  for 
fixed  and  precise  conceptions  of  form  and  to 
utterly  neglect  the  beauty  of  light  and  shade. 
When  he  discovered  his  error,  he  went  to  the 
other  extreme,  and  not  merely  softened  con- 
tours, but  blotted  them  out  completely.  At  a 
loss'  how  to  meet  this  difficulty  he  lost  himself 
in  an  intenser  and  more  varied  study  of  illum- 
ination, with  the  aim  to  reach  a  higher  pitch 
of  light.  Lamplight  and  firelight  effects  and 
the  contrasts  of  commingling  light  rays  from 
two,  or  even  three,  sources  became  the  order  of 
the  day.  Sargent  studied  the  effect  of  Japa- 
nese lanterns  on  white  dresses  in  twilight. 
Harrison  tried  to  fix  the  play  of  sunlight  on  the 
naked  human  body.  Dannat  experimented 
with  flesh  tones  and  electrical  arclight  and 
magnesium  flashlight  illumination.  Zorn  en- 


On  Light  and  Tone  Problems        85 

deavoured  to  solve  in  his  Omnibus  picture  the 
conflict  of  various  lights  in  a  glass-encased  in- 
terior. Degas  and  Besnard  became  enchanted 
with  illumination  from  below,  in  the  cross 
lights  and  the  lurid  unnatural  lights  of  the 
stage,  and  his  disciples  introduced  the  effects 
of  footlights  into  interiors  by  placing  the 
lamp  on  the  floor. 

All  these  studies  address  themselves  most 
powerfully  to  the  modern  mind,  as  they  depict 
contemporary  conditions.  The  eye  may  be 
offended  or  even  repelled  by  unnecessary  triv- 
ialities at  times,  but  the  underlying  aspiration 
is,  after  all,  the  truth.  From  an  aesthetic  view- 
point it  is  less  satisfactory,  as  this  modern  sub- 
stitute of  light  and  shade  composition,  consist- 
ing of  an  opposition  of  colours,  rather  than  of 
masses,  does  not  afford,  in  the  speech  of  Her- 
bert Spencer,  "  the  maximum  of  stimulation 
with  the  minimum  of  fatigue."  It  contains  a 
discord,  a  lack  of  normal  gratification,  and  this 
shortcoming,  in  conjunction  with  the  deteriora- 
tion of  the  crafts,  which  were  replaced  by  fac- 
tory labour,  and  the  hopelessly  prosaic  aspect 
of  modern  dress,  as  far  as  colour  is  concerned, 
directed  the  painter  into  other  fields  of  investi- 
gation. He  realized  that  nature  had  remained 
unchanged,  that  the  colour-symphony  of  sea 
and  landscapes,  of  dawn  and  sunset,  were  as 


86  The  Whistler  Book 

beautiful  as  ever,  and  he  went  out  of  doors  for 
inspiration.  And  then,  to  his  great  astonish- 
ment, he  discovered  that  the  optical  sensations 
afforded  by  nature  were  very  similar  to  those 
he  had  experienced  in  his  home  life,  also  how 
everything  was  diffused  with  light,  and  forms 
rendered  uncertain  by  the  vibration  of  light. 

The  famous  colour  harmony  of  Italian 
painters,  red,  green  and  violet,  which  aroused 
action  successively  in  the  whole  field  of  vision 
without  exhausting  it,  seemed  meaningless. 
Strange,  apparently  discordant  combinations 
of  green  and  blue  and  yellow,  orange  and  red, 
which  stimulate  only  certain  portions  of  the 
retina  at  the  expense  of  others,  obtruded  them- 
selves upon  his  optical  consciousness.  It  be- 
came apparent  that  light  does  not  emphasize, 
but  that  it  generalizes,  and  that  colours  and 
tones,  although  more  varied,  are  less  decisive 
than  in  the  painting  of  the  Old  Masters.  The 
charm  of  pictorial  illusion  seemed  to  have 
shifted  from  the  juxtaposition  of  contrast  to 
the  more  subtle  and  less  powerful  variety  of 
half  tones.  It  is  not  so  much  the  richness  and 
fullness  of  colour  the  modern  painter  strives 
for,  as  Raffaelli  has  pointed  out,  but  the  com- 
bination of  colours  which  yield  a  sensation  of 
light,  which,  in  a  way,  is  a  reflection  of  our  tem- 
porary light  conditions.  That  the  Impres- 


Owned  by  John  H.  Whittemore 

"  L'ANDALUSIENNE.' 


On  Light  and  Tone  Problems        87 

sionists  banished  black  from  their  palette  is 
significant  itself. 

Ever  since  the  semi-darkness  of  the  Middle 
Ages  was  dispelled,  the  minds  of  painters  had 
been  occupied  with  the  invention  of  a  new 
method  of  painting.  Chardin  and  Watteau, 
who  crosshatched  and  stippled  pure  colours  in 
their  pastels  and  water  colours,  were  really  the 
forerunners  of  impressionism.  Delacroix  was 
the  first  master-painter  who  scientifically  con- 
cerned himself  with  light  and  colour  notation, 
as  Turner  (viz.  Ruskin)  introduced  the  empha- 
sis of  the  colour  of  shadows  at  the  expense  of 
their  tones.  But  not  before  science  came  to  the 
assistance  of  the  painter,  was  he  able  to  perfect 
his  system  of  open  air  mosaics,  of  producing 
tone  by  the  parallel  and  distinct  projection  of 
pure  colours. 

And  it  is  Chevreul,  Young,  Helmholtz  and 
Ogden  Rood,  who,  after  analyzing  colour  sen- 
sations from  a  physiological  viewpoint  and 
tracing  them  to  their  causes,  supplied  the 
genius  of  Manet,  Monet  and  Degas  with  a  new 
pictorial  revelation  of  light  and  colour.  The 
modern  style  of  painting  is  a  direct  outcome 
of  the  environment  in  which  we  live.  With 
the  decline  of  candlelight  parties  the  new  era 
was  ushered  in,  and  the  kerosene  lamp  was  the 
last  harmonizer  of  light  and  darkness.  As  it 


The  Whistler  Book 


went  slowly  out  of  fashion,  the  reign  of  half 
and  quarter  tones,  or,  in  other  words,  a  new 
reign  of  light,  of  light  transposed  into  tone, 
set  in. 

It  set  in,  however,  at  the  expense  of  every- 
thing else.  It  is  largely  technical,  and  the  rep- 
resentations are  photographic,  prosaic,  crude 
and  often  without  the  slightest  suggestion  of 
sentiment,  not  even  that  which  an  ordinary 
scene  out  of  doors  produces  in  an  imaginative 
mind.  This,  more  than  any  other  course, 
estranges  art  from  the  approval  of  the  general 
public. 

The  subject  of  an  Old  Master,  although 
mostly  of  a  religious  order  and  legible  to  the 
ordinary  mind,  at  times  may  have  soared  be- 
yond the  ordinary  faculties  of  comprehension, 
but  the  object  represented  invariably  appealed 
to  the  sense  of  sight,  as  it  was  painted  in  such  a 
way  as  to  create  an  illusion.  The  Old  Masters 
succeeded  in  suggesting  on  a  flat  surface  the 
roundness  and  actual  colouring  of  things.  The 
modern  painter  depicts  objects  in  which  the 
beauty  is  not  always  palpable  to  the  layman, 
and  in  a  manner  which  is  less  convincing,  as  he 
suggests  form  rather  than  actually  represent- 
ing it,  and  adheres  most  stubbornly  to  individ- 
ual colour  interpretation.  It  needs  connois- 
seurship  and  technical  knowledge  to  under- 


On  Light  and  Tone  Problems        89 

stand  and  appreciate  the  paintings  of  to-day. 
The  paintings  of  a  Degas,  Besnard  or  Renoir 
remain  a  myth  even  to  the  people  who  are  fond 
of  art.  Comparatively  few  persons  are  versed 
in  the  thought-transference  from  colour  to 
sentiment. 

Whistler  did  not  believe  in  the  constant 
mechanical  mixture  of  seven  solar  tones,  which 
make  the  eye  perform  the  work  which  should 
be  done  by  the  painter.  He  tried  hard  for  the 
dissociation  of  tones  by  endeavouring  to  trans- 
late the  flat  tints  of  the  Japanese  into  oil  paint- 
ings executed  in  Western  fashion,  but  was  not 
satisfied  with  the  result. 

Living  in  London,  with  a  view  on  the 
Thames,  he  realized  that  the  aspects  of  modern 
life  have  turned  grey.  They  have  nothing  to 
do  with  Oriental  embroideries.  Our  large 
cities  with  their  smoke  and  manifold  exhala- 
tions (not  to  speak  of  communities  subjected 
to  the  use  of  soft  coal)  have  acquired  a  dust- 
laden,  misty  atmosphere.  This  peculiarity  of 
city  atmosphere,  however,  to  be  noticed  in  Lon- 
don and  Paris  as  much  as  in  Chicago  and 
Pittsburg,  is  a  wonderful  subduer  and  elimina- 
tor of  detail,  and  should  prove  a  valuable  ally 
in  conquering  new  suggestions  of  light  effects. 
This  Whistler  realized,  and  he  used  it  to  ex- 
press what  the  inner  life  of  things  in  modern 


90 The  Whistler  Book 

art  needed  most  to  express,  the  poetry  of  paint 
expressed  in  tone  and  light.  "  The  study  of 
light  per  se"  as  Leon  Dabo  says,  "  had  become 
a  creed  with  Monet,  Manet  and  their  followers. 
Somehow  Whistler's  contribution  to  this  ncds- 
sance  —  for  it  was  a  real  birth,  first  success- 
fully carried  out  by  Constable  —  has  been  en- 
tirely neglected  for  the  more  obvious  quality 
of  full  sunlight  produced  by  the  so-called  Im- 
pressionists. Whistler's  paintings  prove  con- 
clusively that  where  there  is  harmony  of  colour 
there  is  vibration  of  atmosphere,  and,  therefore, 
the  illusion  of  light." 

When  we  stand  before  the  "  Mona  Lisa  "  of 
Leonardo  da  Vinci  and  before  his  less  famous, 
but  almost  equally  fascinating  woman  of  the 
Liechtenstein  Gallery,  we  do  not  marvel 
merely  at  the  lifelike  representation,  which 
seems  to  actually  vibrate;  but  at  something 
evasive  and  unfathomable  that  we  find  difficult 
to  express  in  words.  We  experience  something 
similar  when  we  contemplate  Whistler's 
"  Mother "  or  some  portraits  of  modern 
masters  like  Blanche,  Lavery,  enigmatic 
Khnopff,  or  the  grey  men  and  women  of  Car- 
riere,  who  rise  so  softly  and  mistily  out  of  the 
background.  Although  they  have  not  attained 
the  mastership  of  the  former  in  the  representa- 
tion of  the  living,  breathing  people,  there  is  the 


Courtesy  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum,  New  York 

SIR    HENRY    IRVING    AS    PHILIP    II. 


On  Light  and  Tone  Problems        91 

same  mysterious  mood  in  their  paintings. 
They  seem  to  quiver  with  something  that  is 
essentially  modern,  and  cannot  emanate  alone 
from  the  charm  of  momentary  expression 
which  is  one  of  their  main  attractions.  The 
modern  figures  have  a  less  corporeal  effect  than 
those  of  the  Renaissance;  they  resemble  ap- 
paritions which  have  suddenly  taken  shape  in 
the  greyness  of  life  only  to  dissolve  again  into 
shadows.  This  is  more  than  a  technical  change, 
it  is  a  new  way  of  thinking.  We  concede  a  new 
attribute  to  these  painters  and  call  their 
achievements  the  "  psychological  style "  of 
painting.  Robert  Henri's  "  Young  Woman  in 
Black  "  is  an  interesting  attempt  in  this  direc- 
tion. 

By  this  we  wish  to  convey  that  the  figures 
tell  us  something  of  the  inner  life,  and  that  the 
way  in  which  this  is  accomplished  impresses  us 
like  a  commentary  on  their  souls.  Of  course 
this  is  nothing  new.  All  the  masterpieces  of 
portraiture,  no  matter  how  different  technic- 
ally they  may  be,  whether  clear  and  sharp  or 
soft  and  diffused,  whether  by  a  Raphael  or  a 
Rembrandt,  Titian  or  Franz  Hals,  have  the 
faculty  to  make  us  dream  and  invent  some 
psychical  annotation  to  the  figures  represented, 
but  modern  life  is  more  analytical.  We  re- 
joice in  dissecting  our  thoughts,  sentiments  and 


92  The  Whistler  Book 

moods,  and  some  of  our  foremost  contempora- 
ries, though  they  may  wield  their  brushes  as 
dexterously  as  the  Old  Masters,  concentrate 
upon  the  endeavour  to  reflect  specifically  the 
spiritual  qualities  and  to  accentuate  its  func- 
tions as  far  as  it  is  possible  in  paint. 

The  modern  painter  is  fond  of  specializing, 
not  only  in  subject,  but  technically,  because  he 
lacks  the  overflowing  energy  and  strength  to 
conquer  all  the  elements  of  his  profession  in  one 
effort.  This  age,  at  least  in  the  upper  intel- 
lectual strata,  has  become  very  skeptical.  We 
are  not  concerned  so  much  about  divinities  and 
our  future  state  as  about  ourselves  in  the  pres- 
ent. Religion  no  longer  furnishes  the  emo- 
tional staff  on  which  we  may  lean  on  our  pil- 
grimage of  life,  and  yet  we  need  some  spiritual 
support,  some  science  for  the  soul,  and  we  may 
look  about  for  something  that  may  mystify  us 
and  lift  us  above  the  prose  of  every-day  exist- 
ence. And  this  search  is  mirrored  in  the  en- 
deavour of  these  men  who  would  like  to  paint 
enigmatic  figures,  like  "  Mona  Lisa  "  and  the 
woman  of  the  Liechtenstein  Gallery. 

Conditions  change,  but  not  so  much  that  they 
become  entirely  extinct.  The  possibilities  for 
emotional  art  are  to-day  as  great  as  ever. 

For  portraiture,  single  figure  representation 
and  character  delineation  gentle  effects  capable 


On  Light  and  Tone  Problems       93 

of  subtler  gradations  are  more  desirable.  They 
may  be  found  in  many  out-of-the-way  places. 
A  modern  Ribera  may  find  endless  suggestions 
for  new  light  and  shade  combinations  in  an 
ordinary  cellar,  and  the  picturesque  "  tavern 
atmosphere  "  of  a  Caravaggio  or  Terborg  can 
surely  be  substituted  in  some  obscure  nooks 
and  corners  of  our  towns.  Our  living-rooms 
show  a  wealth  of  still  life  that,  by  the  play  of 
light,  could  be  turned  into  beautiful  accesso- 
ries. There  is  nothing  more  gratifying  to  the 
eye  than  a  bright,  haphazard  shimmer  on  some 
objects  while  the  remainder  is  lost  in  a  vague, 
picturesque  haze. 

The  student  of  light  and  shade  will  find  the 
range  of  light  is  still  a  very  wide  one.  The 
vivid  glow  of  firelight,  here  flickering  brightly, 
there  vanishing  in  gloom,  will  always  produce 
a  striking  effect.  A  pale  splendour  caressing 
the  human  form  with  vague  reflections  could 
be  obtained  by  light  streaming  through  stained- 
glass  windows.  The  dazzling  illumination  of 
the  hour  of  sunset,  which  pales  and  subdues  all 
objects,  and,  concentrated  on  the  human  body, 
makes  it  look  as  if  it  had  been  absorbed  all  in 
light  and  radiated  it  (which  Prudhon  has  at- 
tempted and  Henner  specialized) ,  may  fill  our 
minds  with  new  dreams  of  vision.  Even  the 
ghostlike  rays  of  shimmering  moonlight  (as 


94  The  Whistler  Book 

Steichen  has  shown  in  his  versions  of  Rodin's 
Balzac),  may  open  novel  methods  to  render 
tone  and  form  in  the  broadest  and  softest  man- 
ner possible. 

Still  I  do  not  believe  in  the  garish  effects 
of  certain  modern  painters,  who  take  special 
delight  in  reproducing  the  flaring  vagaries  of 
artificial  light.  The  trend  of  such  works  is 
towards  an  affected  a?stheticism.  They  may  be 
fascinating  and  "  stunningly  clever  "  but  they 
do  not  ring  true.  They  are  at  their  best  only 
in  colour  experiments  specially  made  to  startle 
the  beholder.  When  Elsheimer  painted  his 
"  Christ  Taken  Prisoner,"  showing  the  pale 
light  of  the  moon  in  the  background,  while  the 
nocturnal  figures  in  the  foreground  are  en- 
veloped by  the  glare  of  torches,  he  ventured 
upon  a  problem  that  was,  after  all,  logical 
and  true  to  life.  But  to  place  a  lamp  on 
the  floor  merely  for  the  purpose  of  throwing 
interesting  diagonal  shadows  upwards  on  a 
woman's  figure,  is  not  far  from  being  an  ab- 
surdity. 

The  various  aspects  of  electrical  illumina- 
tion, gaslight,  flashlight  effects,  searchlight, 
etc.,  no  doubt  can  be  solved  pictorially,  but  they 
should  never  be  applied  unless  the  character  of 
the  picture  absolutely  demands  them. 

Tone  is  the  ideal  of  the  modern  painter.    It 


ARRANGEMENT    IN     BLACK    AND     WHITE:     LADY    MEUX     (NO.     1). 


On  Light  and  Tone  Problems       95 

is  his  highest  ambition.  It  is  the  powerful  sub- 
duer  of  all  the  incongruities  of  modern  art. 

But  what  painters  strive  for,  in  most  in- 
stances are  merely  fragmentary  accomplish- 
ments. It  is  not  tone  in  the  large  sense  as 
the  Old  Masters  understood  it.  To  Titian  and 
Rembrandt  and  Velasquez  "  tone  "  meant  a 
combination  of  all  pictorial  qualities,  the  con- 
trast of  colour,  the  balance  of  lighter  and 
darker  planes,  the  linear  arrangement;  all 
these  together  produced  tone.  They  do  not 
sacrifice  form  or  detail,  correct  drawing,  the 
physiognomy  of  the  faces  and  the  idea  and 
conception  of  the  picture  to  it. 

Do  not  misunderstand  me.  Tone  is  desir- 
able; no  picture  should  be  without  it.  But  it 
is  merely  one  of  the  elements  that  enter  into  the 
making  of  a  picture,  and  not  the  whole  thing. 
There  are  light  tonalities  as  well  as  dark  tonali- 
ties. A  Renoir  is  as  much  in  tone  as  a  black- 
in-black  Tissot. 

What  tonal  painters  see  in  tone  is  merely 
the  appearance  of  old  age.  The  Old  Masters 
have  become  famous,  and  the  public  has  ac- 
quired a  certain  predilection  for  dark-toned 
pictures.  The  modern  painters  try  to  repro- 
duce it,  overlooking  (perhaps  wilfully)  that 
the  dark  tonality  is  entirely  an  artificial  prod- 
uct, caused  by  dirt  and  dampness,  the  chemical 


96  The  Whistler  Book 

action  of  light,  and  the  gradual  change  of  col- 
our, oil  and  varnish. 

The  Old  Masters  painted  in  a  low  key,  but 
they  probably  never  thought  that  some  day 
their  pictures  would  look  as  they  do  now.  The 
modern  painters  try  to  produce  a  quality  that 
has  nothing  to  do  with  art,  they  cater  to  the 
taste  of  certain  art  patrons  that  have  a  liking 
for  old-looking  things. 

In  portraiture  the  simplest  scheme  will  al- 
ways be  most  certain  of  success.  Variety  is 
desirable,  but  no  exaggeration  or  strained 
effects.  Of  all  modern  painters  Whistler  and 
Carriere  seem  to  have  excelled  in  conquering 
the  modern  limitations  of  light  and  shade  com- 
position and  making  the  most  of  them.  They 
have  enveloped  their  figures  in  clair-obscure 
that  is  uncertain  in  form,  mystic  in  tendency, 
but  suggestive  of  atmosphere,  depth  and  space, 
some  grey  or  dark  interior  filled  with  strug- 
gling shadows,  capricious  gleams  of  light  and 
tonal  gradations,  tantalizing  in  their  subtlety 
and  power  of  suggestion. 

All  sharp  lines  are  dissolved,  each  detail  van- 
ishes with  soft  delicacy  into  the  other  and  their 
light,  falling  from  some  unknown  source, 
quivers  like  a  soft  chord  through  the  twi- 
light. 

The  "  Mother  and  Child  "  of  Carriere  has 


Carnegie  Art  Institute,  Pittsburg 
ARRANGEMENT    IN    BLACK: 


SENOR    PABLO    SARASATE. 


On  Light  and  Tone  Problems        97 

but  little  of  the  robust  yet  sweet  and  seductive 
charm  of  the  Madonna  pictures.  Its  glimmer 
of  light  is  sad  and  dreamy,  as  if  it  were  woven 
out  of  grey  monotonies  of  everyday  life.  And 
in  Whistler's  "  Sarasate  "  we  see  in  the  plastic, 
but  solitary  light  passage,  on  face  and  shirt 
front  a  symbol  of  all  the  glamour  of  romance 
and  poetry  that  light  can  yield  in  our  prosaic 
age.  Whistler  translated  all  objects  into  flat 
surface  planes,  and,  in  that  way,  sacrificed 
more  to  the  realization  of  tone  than  any  other 
painter.  His  fragmentary  visions  are  almost 
colourless  but  never  give  the  impression  of 
monochrome.  Looking  at  one  of  his  enigmatic 
figures  receding  into  vague  shadows,  a  strange 
association  of  thought  occurs  to  me:  I  see  in 
one  of  the  sunless  courtyards  of  the  Escurial 
the  dark  figure  of  a  woman  standing  near  a 
fountain  and  holding  a  red  rose  in  ,her  hand. 
At  one  of  the  palace  windows  is  seen  the  proud 
face  of  Velasquez,  gazing  absent-mindedly 
upon  the  scene.  And  the  wind  ruffles  the 
flower,  carries  one  petal  after  another  and  scat- 
ters them  upon  the  surface  of  the  water.  Is 
this  dark  silent  woman  the  personification  of 
Whistler's  muse,  and  does  she  tell  us  that  the 
splendour  of  light  and  shade  composition  of 
the  Old  Masters  has  faded,  that  we  know  noth- 
ing of  its  fervour  that  rose  from  the  depths  of  a 


98  The  Whistler  Book 

more  picturesque  age,  and  that  all  we  can  do  is 
to  scatter  a  few  colour  notes  across  the  darkness 
of  space?  For  the  jubilant  and  passionate  note 
is  altogether  missing  in  Whistler's  art,  though 
it  can  claim  profundity  and  some  dreami- 
ness. 

Light  now  flits  phantom-like  across  the  mas- 
terpieces of  pictorial  delineation,  but  it  is  still 
the  great  elixir  of  art,  that  will  give  life  to  any 
scene  and  animate  any  object.  No  special 
method  can  be  indicated.  Every  worker  must 
be  his  own  pioneer  and  pathfinder.  The  new 
era  of  light  is  yet  in  a  primitive  stage.  It  is  a 
lonely  art  whose  language  is  understood  but  by 
the  few,  though  we  have  approached  the  hour 
of  dawn  before  the  awakening.  Life  may  seem 
dreary  and  colourless  to  us,  yet  we  should 
realize  that  only  one  beam  of  light  is  needed  to 
change  it  into  a  vision  of  beauty. 

To  Rembrandt  even  the  Bree-straat  in  Am- 
sterdam, resplendent  in  his  time  of  Oriental 
culture  and  Moorish  pomp,  may  have  seemed 
dull  and  colourless.  He  had  to  create  for  him- 
self a  distant  and  enchanted  realm  from  out  the 
prosaic  world  in  which  he  lived.  And  so  must 
every  ambitious  artist  dream  himself  far  away 
from  the  grey  of  everyday  life  and  construct 
a  poetic  world  for  himself  alone. 

Light  is,  after  all,  objective  and  merely  sug- 


On  Light  and  Tone  Problems       99 

gestive.  The  artist's  mind  must  serve  as  some 
Faustean  retort,  which  will  turn  these  sugges- 
tions into  the  soft  gleams  and  sparkling  shim- 
mers of  art.  Whistler  was  one  of  the  few  to 
accomplish  the  task. 


CHAPTER   VI 

SYMPHONIES   IN   INTERIOR  DECORATION 

WILLIAM  MORRIS  demanded  that  our  entire 
environment  should  be  beautiful.  Only  in  mo- 
ments of  superior  enjoyment  do  we  realize  the 
significance  of  human  life,  and  by  a  poem,  pic- 
ture or  sonata  we  construct  the  symbols  that 
bring  us  closest  to  this  appreciation.  Why 
then  not  construct  a  candlestick,  a  chair,  the 
surface  of  a  wall,  in  such  a  way  that  they 
might  be  taken  for  symbols,  to  remind  us  of 
the  existence  of  our  soul?  The  candlestick  shall 
no  longer  be  a  mere  stand  and  holder  for  a 
candle  but  a  souvenir  of  reminiscences.  That 
is  the  philosophical  idea  that  underlies  all  in- 
terior decoration  and  furnishing. 

As  Sheridan  Ford  so  aptly  expressed  it  in 
an  article  in  "  St.  Stephen's  Review  "  in  1889: 

"  There  are  in  England  two  new,  and  in 
their  origin,  distinct  methods  of  interior  deco- 
ration. Gradually  they  have  coalesced  to  a  de- 
gree, although  they  will  always  retain  their 
individual  traits  and  differences.  These  two 

100 


Symphonies  in  Interior  Decoration   101 

methods  may  be  termed  the  Whistlerian,  and 
the  English  or  pre-Raphaelite ;  the  one,  spon- 
taneous, fresh  —  simple,  the  other,  a  revival  — 
complex  —  reformatory.  Through  many 
years,  from  the  early  days  of  the  pre-Raphael- 
ites  down  to  the  last  meeting  of  the  Painter- 
socialists,  an  outside  influence  —  a  personal- 
ity —  has  been  making  itself  felt  in  London  in 
strange  and  subtle  ways." 

The  Morris  arts  and  crafts  movement  be- 
lieves in  patterned  design  and  the  dominant 
force  of  the  material.  Every  material  speaks 
its  own  language,  and  we  must  understand,  be- 
fore we  can  lend  expression  to  it.  When  the 
actual  moment  of  designing  arrives,  the  artist- 
artisan  should  work  with  a  piece  of  the  material 
itself  before  his  eyes  —  wood,  stone,  iron  or 
plain  silk,  linen  or  wool  stuff,  according  to  cir- 
cumstances. This  memory  of  nature's  forms, 
dominated  by  the  momentary  impression  of  the 
material,  with  its  requirements,  capabilities  and 
limitations,  would  lead  him  to  a  more  congenial 
and  workmanlike  result  than  all  the  contents 
of  a  natural  history  museum,  botanical  garden 
or  library.  In  the  same  way  as  we  can  give  to 
words  a  dramatic,  epic  or  lyrical  significance, 
so  has  wood,  leather  and  glass  their  own  sphere 
of  expression.  Harmony  in  every  detail  is  the 
ultimate  result.  A  room  is  no  museum,  every 


102  The  Whistler  Book 

object  must  be  related  to  the  other,  the  candle- 
stick must  make  a  rhyme  with  the  wall-paper, 
with  the  woodwork,  the  hangings,  the  table  and 
chairs. 

Whistler,  on  the  other  hand,  was  the  apostle 
of  Japanese  simplicity,  of  suggestion  rather 
than  realization.  He  tried  to  express  his  own 
aesthetic  creed,  and  that  consisted  of  restful  ex- 
panses of  unbroken  wall,  of  decorative  devices 
and  ornamental  motifs,  individual  caprices  ac- 
centuated by  black,  and,  finally,  by  colour. 
Colour  in  interior  decoration  meant  to  him  the 
same  thing  as  tone  in  painting.  It  reigned 
supreme.  Our  feeling  of  beauty  varies ;  it  may 
find  its  expression  in  a  certain  flower,  a  certain 
hour  of  the  day  or  season,  in  a  certain  poem  or 
song  or,  as  it  was  the  case  with  Whistler,  in  a 
certain  delicate  colour  tint,  that  would  make 
a  room  look  gay  and  cheerful.  He  tried  to 
bring  the  sun  into  the  house,  even  in  a  land 
of  fog  and  cloud.  Pale  pink,  brown,  pale 
turquoise,  primrose,  saffron,  sulphure  and 
lemon-yellow  were  his  favourite  colours.  These 
he  endeavoured  to  express.  It  was  the  gesture 
of  his  soul  translated  into  every  object  and 
material. 

A  colour  is  like  a  special  metric  form,  and 
all  lines,  and  every  combination  of  tint  —  the 
sofa,  the  lamp,  wall-paper  —  take  the  place  of 


Symphonies  in  Interior  Decoration   103 

stanzas  in  a  finished  poem.  In  such  a  house  we 
would  see  mirrors  everywhere  reflecting  our 
own  personality.  Such  were  Whistler's  crea- 
tions. They  reflected  his  own  face,  and  echoed 
his  own  song.  Whistler  arrived  at  these  con- 
clusions early  in  his  life.  During  his  Stevens- 
Japanese  print  period  he  interested  himself  a 
good  deal  with  decorative  schemes.  He  had 
painted  "  The  Princess  of  the  Porcelain  Land," 
which  was  purely  decorative,  and,  in  a  way, 
served  as  inspiration  for  the  Peacock  Room, 
as  the  design  for  the  latter  was  really  invented 
to  find  a  proper  environment  for  the  painting. 
In  a  diary  of  William  Michael  Rossetti,  the 
ever  busy  biographers  have  found  a  note  refer- 
ring to  six  schemes  or  projects  of  practically 
the  same  size.  It  reads :  "  Whistler  is  doing 
on  a  large  scale,  for  Leyland,  the  subject  of 
women  with  flowers."  They  were  never  exe- 
cuted, although  some  of  the  sketches  are  still 
in  existence.  He  abandoned  decorative  schemes 
entirely  in  later  years,  but  became  more  and 
more  engrossed  in  the  problems  of  interior  dec- 
oration. In  later  years  he  intended  to  paint 
a  grand  decoration  with  full  orchestration  that 
he  would  call  "  The  Symphony  of  Colours  — 
Full  Palette."  This  would  have  been  indeed 
interesting,  but  I  fear  he  went  too  deep  into 
blacks  to  have  accomplished  it.  In  most  in- 


104  The  Whistler  Book 

stances  he  abstained  from  mural  decoration,  — 
the  panels  over  the  chimney-place,  and  the 
shutter  and  ceiling  decoration  of  the  Peacock 
Room  for  the  Leyland  home  at  Prince's  Gate, 
London,  were  his  only  supreme  effort  in  that 
direction.  They  show  the  right  idea  about 
decorative  painting.  He  agreed  with  all  dec- 
orative painters  from  Gozzoli  to  Bob  Chanler, 
that  it  should  be  an  arrangement  of  colours 
which,  within  its  frame,  affords  a  pleasant 
visual  entertainment. 

There  is  no  intention  to  give  food  for 
thought.  The  peacocks  in  blue  on  gold  and 
gold  on  blue  relate  as  little  as  does  an  Oriental 
carpet.  He  merely  wished  to  please  the  eye 
by  depicting  them  more  beautifully  than  they 
were  in  nature.  But  why  did  he  select  pea- 
cocks? Do  they  not  convey  an  idea?  Figures 
usually  are  story-telling  symbols,  but  not  nec- 
essarily so ;  with  him  they  were  vehicles  of  col- 
our, to  invent  a  pattern  for  their  luminosity. 
Peacock  designs  occur  frequently  in  Japanese 
art.  No  doubt,  Whistler  studied  them.  There 
is  a  certain  resemblance,  but  he  individualized 
them  in  his  own  way.  The  sharply  silhouetted 
forms  of  the  birds  are  a  happy  invention  of 
luminous  colour  and  interesting  design.  The 
Japanese  would  have  made  a  more  lavish  use 
of  gold,  that  is  they  would  have  left  larger 


SHUTTER   DECORATION,    PEACOCK   ROOM. 


Symphonies  in  Interior  Decoration   105 

spaces  untouched  by  any  additional  colour. 
Blank  spaces  of  gold  (or  any  colour)  act  in 
such  instances  like  the  musical  silence  of  a 
pause  between  music,  they  represent  the  birth 
of  beauty  from  luxury.  But  the  Leyland  room 
was  overcrowded,  with  its  elaborate  ceiling, 
bulky  chandelier  and  collection  of  blue  and 
white  porcelain  on  walnut  shelves,  broken  by 
an  endless  repetition  of  perpendicular  lines. 
He  could  not  change  the  architecture  of  the 
place,  so  he  went  to  work  and  decorated  the 
few  spaces  that  were  available.  To  decorate 
the  inside  shutters  with  a  peacock  design  was  a 
unique  performance,  and  to  cover  the  mould- 
ing of  the  chandelier  and  the  entire  ceiling  with 
conventionalized  peacock  feathers,  utilizing  the 
eyes  of  the  feathers  as  accents,  was  even  more 
marvellous.  In  the  elegance  of  its  scheme,  and 
its  individual  perfection,  splendour  and  rest- 
fulness  it  has  no  equal. 

When  Whistler  moved  into  houses  of  his 
own,  he  had,  like  all  ambitious  house-owners, 
the  desire  to  create  a  comfortable  and  beautiful 
home.  None  of  his  houses  were  ever  com- 
pletely decorated  and  finished ;  they  had  a  look, 
as  Pennell  tells  us,  as  if  he  had  just  moved  in, 
or  was  just  moving  out;  often  there  were  pack- 
ing cases  and  trunks  about,  but  as  much  as  was 
finished  was  always  beautiful. 


106  The  Whistler  Book 

The  "House  Beautiful"  or  "White 
House,"  was  a  three-storied  house  with  many 
windows  of  various  sizes,  a  green  slate  roof, 
bluish-grey  door,  Portland  stone  facings  and 
fantastic  wood  ornamentation.  A  queer  look- 
ing house,  was  the  verdict  of  the  neighbours, 
and  yet  it  was  rather  unassuming,  so  that  it 
escaped  the  attention  of  the  ordinary  passer-by. 
While  various  schemes  for  each  room  were  in 
his  mind,  a  friend,  Mr.  Sutherland,  director 
of  the  P.  O.  Company,  called  one  evening  in 
the  spring  of  1873  to  ask  Whistler  if  he  would 
help  him  in  the  decoration  of  his  home.  Whis- 
tler entered  upon  the  idea  with  enthusiasm  and 
prepared  the  plans.  The  novelty  of  the 
schemes  was  first  approved  of,  but,  as  they 
developed,  Mr.  Sutherland  began  to  doubt 
their  plausibility.  Whistler  relieved  him  from 
all  obligations,  and  determined  that  he  would 
use  the  ideas  in  his  own  home.  He  went  at 
once  to  work  and  three  weeks  later  gave  a 
dinner  to  celebrate  the  event.  It  was  a  revela- 
tion of  simple  delicate  colour  schemes  —  every- 
thing was  artistic  from  the  mahogany  wood- 
work in  the  "  gold  and  yellow  "  room  down  to 
the  single  flower  in  some  bit  of  Kaga  porcelain. 
In  the  room  everything  was  yellow,  gold  or 
brown.  The  walls  were  tinted  yellow,  the  cab- 
inet and  chimney-piece  in  one  structure  were 


Symphonies  in  Interior  Decoration   107 

of  a  bright  yellow  mahogany,  with  gilt  panels. 
The  tiles  before  it  were  of  a  pale  sulphur  col- 
our. In  some  niches  there  was  a  display  of 
orange  coloured  vases.  The  peacock  designs 
were  seen  in  some  panels,  but  they  were  carried 
out  in  yellow  and  gold.  The  chairs  were  cov- 
ered with  yellow  velvet,  the  table  had  brass 
legs  and  rested  on  a  brown  rug. 

One  may  say  that  Whistler  established  three 
simple  rules  for  decoration,  which  interpreted 
in  words,  might  read  like  this : 

First:  That  a  house  should  be  a  dainty 
and  complete  thing  —  from  the  door-knocker 
to  the  ridge  tile. 

Second:  That  each  room  should  be  restful, 
with  ceiling,  walls  and  floors  so  treated  as  to 
give  a  sense  of  shelter,  freedom  and  complete- 
ness, terminating  in  the  floor  at  the  base. 

Third:  that  pure,  tender  colours  scientifi- 
cally used  give  ease  and  infinite  suggestion,  and 
should  be  allowed  to  play  about  a  room  with- 
out coming  into  boisterous  contact  with  an- 
other. 

Harper  Pennington,  a  friend  of  Whistler's, 
has  given  a  humourous  but  sympathetic  de- 
scription of  the  "  White  House:  "  "  His  fur- 
niture was  limited  to  the  barest  necessities,  and, 
frequently,  too  few  of  those.  Indeed,  some  wit 
made  what  he  called  his  "  standing  joke " 


108  The  Whistler  Book 

about  poor  Jimmy's  dearth  of  seats.  Once 
Dick  (Corney)  Grain  said,  when  shaking 
hands  before  a  Sunday  luncheon,  "  Ah!  Jimmy, 
glad  to  see  you  playing  before  such  a  full 
house!"  glaring  around  the  studio  with  his 
large  protruding  eyes  in  search  of  something 
to  sit  on.  '  What  do  you  mean?  "  said  Whis- 
tler. "  Standing  room  only,"  replied  the  actor. 
The  studio  could  boast  of  only  four  or  five 
small  cane-seated  chairs  (always  requisitioned 
for  the  dining  room  on  Sundays) ,  and  the  most 
uncomfortable  bamboo  sofa  ever  made.  No- 
body, except  some  luckless  model,  sat  upon  it 
twice.  Never  a  book  or  any  instrument  of 
music  in  his  room,  nothing  that  would  not  con- 
stantly be  in  use,  nothing  superfluous;  all  his 
cares  were  centred  on  the  wall  and  woodwork, 
painted  in  graduated  monochromes,  of  which 
he  held  the  secret. 

The  strangest  thing  about  these  rooms  of  his 
was,  that  they  always  looked  complete.  There 
was  no  space,  apparently,  for  more  than  he  put 
in  them.  So  great  was  the  art  in  his  arrange- 
ments of  colour  and  a  few  pieces  of  ordinary 
furniture  —  a  spindle-legged  table  and  three 
or  four  small  painted  chairs  —  that  it  seemed 
impossible  to  add  so  much  as  a  book  without 
disturbing  the  harmonious  whole.  Curtains,  a 
little  mirror,  one,  two,  three  at  the  most,  per- 


ARRANGEMENT  IN  GRAY  AND  GREEN:  MISS  ALEXANDER. 


Symphonies  in  Interior  Decoration  109 

fectly  placed  pictures,  a  vase,  perhaps  a  pair 
of  them,  upon  the  mantel,  and  matting  on  the 
floor,  were  literally  all  that  any  room  I  ever 
knew  him  to  occupy  appeared  able  to  contain. 
There  was  a  sense  of  finish  and  finality  about 
it  which  a  piano  and  stuffed  furniture  would 
have  disturbed.  In  the  vases,  as  in  two  square 
hanging  pots  upon  the  wall  of  the  dining-room, 
there  were  always  a  few  yellow  flowers,  and 
in  a  huge  old  china  bowl,  that  formed  the  cen- 
trepiece of  the  dining-room  table,  swam  some 
tiny  gold  fish  —  the  whole  thing  was  carefully 
composed  so  as  to  make  the  "  symphony " 
complete  at  those  historic  Sunday  break- 
fasts. 

His  various  abodes  became  a  topic  of  con- 
versation, and  a  place  of  pilgrimage,  and  made 
Whistler,  for  a  while  at  least,  a  recognized 
leader  in  decoration.  He  developed  a  style,  the 
influence  of  which  has  been  felt  all  over  Europe. 
The  beauty  of  one  colour  in  the  decoration  of 
a  room,  the  division  of  space  into  simple  lines 
and  masses,  the  scarcity  of  furniture,  leaving 
large  empty  spaces,  the  use  of  flowers  or  a 
few  choice  pieces  of  bric-a-brac,  we  owe  largely 
to  Whistler.  The  backgrounds  of  his  "  Miss 
Alexander,"  "  Carlyle "  and  "The  Artist's 
Mother  "  offer  vague  glimpses  into  the  realm 
of  individualized  decoration,  and,  in  a  way, 


no  The  Whistler  Book 

better  information  about  its  character  than 
a  hundred  pages  of  explanation. 

Among  the  houses  that  were  decorated 
under  Whistler's  supervision  are  the  Aubrey 
house,  Kensington;  Carlyle  cottage,  Chelsea; 
the  home  of  Mr.  D'Oyle  Carte,  on  the  banks 
of  the  Thames,  the  music  room  of  Sarasate  in 
Paris,  for  whom  it  is  said,  he  also  designed 
the  furniture,  and  the  "  Pink  Palace,"  where 
he  lived  with  his  favourite  model  "  Maud,"  in 
1885. 

Occasionally  he  may  have  designed  the  fur- 
niture as  a  particular  favour  to  a  friend,  but 
it  was  not  his  habit.  All  he  did  was  to  give 
advice  or  to  make  the  selection.  Now  and 
then  he  may  have  made  a  hasty  sketch  to  make 
his  idea  clear  to  others,  but  it  is  not  known  that 
he  ever  made  a  regular  design  that  could  have 
been  used  by  a  skilful  cabinet-maker  to  work 
from.  He  merely  suggested,  and,  if  conditions 
allowed,  to  establish  beauty  of  proportions. 
Beauty  of  design  should  exist,  no  matter 
whether  it  be  in  the  vault  of  the  Sistine  Chapel, 
or  a  writing  desk,  but  colour  is  imperative. 
His  "  style  "  consisted  of  little  more  than  se- 
lecting a  special  colour  scheme.  He  took  pride 
in  mixing  the  colours,  but  never  put  them  on 
himself.  An  ordinary  house-painter  served  the 
purpose  just  as  well.  He  looked  at  a  room, 


Symphonies  in  Interior  Decoration   ill 

decided  what  parts  should  be  dark  or  black, 
and  then  proceeded,  in  his  most  scientific  man- 
ner, to  find  a  colour,  delicate  and  luminous,  that 
would  brighten  the  walls.  No  doubt,  he  la- 
boured under  favourable  conditions.  But  we 
should  not  forget  that  he  himself  created  these 
conditions,  in  which  his  artistic  personality  per- 
haps found  its  happiest  and  most  characteristic 
expression. 

Exquisite  colour  and  simplicity  and  the  de- 
sire to  gain  the  possible  effects  of  light  were 
the  leading  characteristics  of  the  Whistler 
style.  Whistler  committed  one  great  error. 
He  invariably  preferred  beauty  to  comfort. 
He  frequently  lost  sight  of  the  practical,  with 
the  result  that  use  and  beauty  were  not  always 
combined  in  due  proportion.  He  had  little  re- 
gard for  physical  requirements  —  he  himself 
was  always  active,  he  had  no  time  to  lounge, 
consequently  decorative  possibilities  alone  in- 
terested him.  It  is  the  same  trouble  with  LSArt 
Nouveau.  Although  infinitely  superior  to  the 
soulless  copyism  of  different  styles  as  prac- 
tised by  sterling  bronze  and  artistic  furniture 
companies,  it  lacks  that  true  artistic  feeling 
for  ornamentation,  which  makes  the  designer 
at  once  realize  the  proper  limits  of  his  mate- 
rials and  show  proper  judgment  in  the  uses 
to  which  he  puts  them.  Whistler  was  so  sen- 


112  The  Whistler  Book 

sitive  to  any  discord  of  line  or  colour,  that  he, 
no  doubt,  would  have  endured  inconvenience 
rather  than  have  destroyed  the  harmony  of  an 
effect.  Most  of  us  do  not  care  to  exist  that 
way. 

A  house  is  built  to  live  in,  with  as  much  grace 
as  possible,  but  primarily  with  a  feeling  of  com- 
fort. Most  people  would  prefer  a  modern 
apartment  to  an  old  palace  at  Fiesole.  The 
material  demands  of  the  owner  should  deter- 
mine the  construction  of  the  house.  The 
American  architects  begin  to  realize  this  more 
and  more.  What  principle  rules  the  construc- 
tion of  a  window?  The  dimensions  of  the 
room.  The  windows  are  not  made  for  the 
street,  to  be  looked  at  from  the  outside;  they 
are  there  for  the  room,  to. distribute  light  and 
emphasize  any  special  use  they  may  be  put  to. 
In  a  parlour,  for  instance,  people  are  more  apt 
to  look  out  a  window  than  anywhere  else;  for 
that  reason  the  parlour  windows  should  be 
wider  than  in  other  rooms  to  enable  several 
people  to  look  out  comfortably  at  the  same 
time. 

A  chair  is  made  to  sit  upon  comfortably, 
not  merely  to  look  beautiful.  The  most  beau- 
tiful design  in  a  chair  will  not  condone  the 
torture  that  may  be  caused  by  a  shape  that 
does  not  adapt  itself  to  the  human  form.  The 


Symphonies  in  Interior  Decoration   113 

chairs  in  the  Sarasate  music  room  were  ex- 
quisite but  too  stiff  to  allow  any  repose.  Imag- 
ine listening  to  a  concert  sitting  erect,  with- 
out being  able  to  stretch  out  one's  limbs.  The 
main  reason  for  not  having  any  comfortable 
chairs  in  his  own  studio  was  one  of  self -pro- 
tection. It  was  his  work-room,  and  he  wished 
to  prevent  visitors  from  making  it  a  hall  of 
gossip.  He  preferred  to  have  it  empty;  a 
promenade  to  contemplate  the  next  master 
stroke  on  one  of  his  paintings. 

When  Whistler  was  forced  to  give  up  the 
'  White  House,"  and  all  its  beautiful  contents 
were  dispersed,  he  was  enraged  that  the  suc- 
ceeding owner,  "  Arry  "  Quilter,  took  liberties 
with  the  f  a9ade.  Quilter  had  added  a  bay  win- 
dow, and,  to  Whistler's  idea,  destroyed  the 
entire  effect.  After  that  he  never  wanted  to 
look  at  it  again.  On  one  occasion  he  expressed 
his  anger  in  a  most  amusing  manner.  :<  To 
think  of  Arry  living  in  the  temple  I  created," 
he  said.  "  He  has  no  use  for  it.  If  he  had  any 
feeling  for  the  symmetry  of  things  he  would 
come  to  me  and  say :  *  Here,  Whistler,  is  your 
house,  take  it,  you  know  its  meaning,  I  don't. 
Take  it  and  live  in  it.  —  But  no,  he  has  not 
sense  enough  to  see  that.' ' 

Harry  Quilter,  no  doubt,  got  as  much  enjoy- 
ment out  of  the  house  as  Whistler  did,  although 


114  The  Whistler  Book 

in  a  different  way.  Extreme  sensitiveness  in 
regard  to  line,  colour  and  form  produces  a 
beautiful  result,  not  unlike  a  handsome  paint- 
ing, but  I  fear  it  would  prove  monotonous  in 
the  long  run.  A  beautiful  room  is  like  a  simple 
melody,  but  if  the  melody  has  any  striking  in- 
dividuality, we  soon  tire  of  it.  If  the  decora- 
tion could  be  kept  entirely  neutral  the  problem 
could  be  solved  satisfactorily.  But  pink  and 
lemon-yellow  are  not  neutral.  Not  everybody 
would  feel  happy  in  a  blue  room  decorated  with 
purple  fans.  Even  a  woman  in  a  certain  gown 
would  destroy  the  harmony,  and  a  definite  col- 
our seen  all  the  time,  even  if  unconsciously, 
would  soon  disturb  our  mental  serenity.  The 
Whistler  rooms  were  beautiful  when  no  human 
being  moved  in  them.  They  were  there  for 
the  photographer,  but  not  for  congenial  hab- 
itation. 

I  believe  most  people  will  agree  that  the  most 
beautiful  bed  is  the  one  in  which  one  can  sleep 
most  peacefully;  the  most  beautiful  chair  the 
one  which  allows  perfect  relaxation  of  the  body ; 
the  most  beautiful  glass  that  which  lends  itself 
most  gracefully  to  convey  to  our  lips  the  special 
beverage  it  is  intended  for.  This  may  sound 
unsesthetic,  but  it  is  common  sense.  Comfort 
comes  first,  whenever  ordinary  living  purposes 
are  concerned.  There  is  plenty  of  opportunity 


Symphonies  in  Interior  Decoration   115 

for  the  exploration  and  exfoliation  of  beauty, 
but  it  should  be  subordinated  to  the  primary 
causes. 

Whistler's  influence,  in  my  opinion,  was 
most  beneficial  in  the  arrangement  of  exhibi- 
tions. An  exhibition  of  paintings,  or  any  work 
of  art,  is  solely  an  aesthetic  venture,  and  should 
be  harmonious  at  any  cost.  It  is  just  in  this 
that  most  exhibitions  fail.  They  show  the  most 
incongruous  backgrounds,  frames  of  the  most 
incredible  malformations,  floors  that  are  either 
bare  or  loudly  carpeted  and  pictures  that  are 
hung  without  the  slightest  consideration  for 
their  colour  values.  With  the  simple  use  of 
distemper,  matting  and  muslin  Whistler  per- 
formed wonders.  During  his  short  reign  as 
president  of  the  Society  of  British  Artists  he 
transformed  the  Suffolk  Street  galleries  from 
a  barn  into  a  dignified  exhibition  hall.  Pic- 
tures, frames,  walls,  floors,  lighting  and  dec- 
orations, each  element  had  its  due  place,  the 
one  supplementing  the  other,  and  harmonizing, 
instead  of  conflicting  with  it,  as  is  so  often  the 
case. 

Every  year  saw  some  fresh  assertions  of  his 
leadership.  He  took  a  great  deal  of  interest 
in  the  arrangement  of  his  own  exhibitions, 
making  some  of  them  occasions  for  the  exploi- 
tation of  his  views  in  new  and  original  ways. 


116  The  Whistler  Book 

His  initial  exhibition  in  Pall  Mall,  1874,  where, 
for  the  first  time,  walls  were  brought  into  har- 
mony with  the  pictures  upon  them,  and  suc- 
cesses in  Bond  Street,  at  the  Fine  Arts  Society, 
and  at  Dowdswell's,  are  accepted  facts  in  the 
art  history  of  London.  Each  one  of  these  ex- 
hibitions especially  embodied  the  demonstration 
of  a  colour  scheme  or  problem  of  decoration. 
So  there  came  to  pass,  in  their  turn,  the  ar- 
rangement in  "  Flesh  Colour  and  Grey,"  the 
harmony  in  "  Gold  and  Brown  "  and  the  ar- 
rangement in  "  Yellow  and  White,"  and  oth- 
ers, equally  characteristic  and  original. 

With  scrupulous  love  of  detail,  he  neglected 
nothing  and  devoted  unusual  attention  to  the 
make-up  of  the  catalogue.  The  brown-cov- 
ered paper  catalogue  of  the  exhibition  of  etch- 
ings held  at  the  Fine  Art  Society  Gallery,  in 
1883,  was  issued  with  the  imprint  of  the  artist's 
home  in  Tite  Street,  Chelsea,  and  represented 
his  peculiar  views  of  typography  as  well  as  the 
art  of  slaying  incompetent  and  hostile  review- 
ers with  their  own  weapons.  After  the  title 
of  each  etching  was  printed  a  quotation  from 
some  criticism,  under  the  general  motto  (on 
the  title  page)  "  Out  of  Their  Own  Mouths 
Ye  Shall  Judge  Them." 

"  Prodigious  amateur  —  there  are  years 
when  Mr.  Whistler  gives  great  promise  —  In 


Symphonies  in  Interior  Decoration  117 

this  instance  criticism  is  powerless — Mr.  Whis- 
tler is  eminently  vulgar  —  General  absence  of 
tone  —  Mr.  Whistler  has  produced  too  much 
for  his  reputation  "  —  are  some  of  the  quota- 
tions. The  Gallery,  on  this  occasion,  was  hung 
with  white  and  yellow,  had  yellow  matting  on 
the  floor,  yellow  chairs  and  yellow  flower  pots. 
The  attendants  at  the  door  were  in  yellow  and 
white  livery,  while  the  artist  wore  yellow  socks, 
and  his  assistants  yellow  cravats. 

For  the  catalogue  of  the  exhibition  of  paint- 
ings held  in  1884,  Whistler  prepared  a  page 
of  "  propositions  "  called  "  L'Envoie,"  which 
we  quote  elsewhere,  and  he  repeated  in  the  cat- 
alogue of  "  his  heroic  kick  in  Bond  Street  "  in 
1892,  the  use  of  quotations  from  the  critics, 
for  each  title  entry.  The  mottoes  on  this  occa- 
sion were:  'The  Voice  of  a  People"  and  a 
sentence  from  the  speech  of  the  General  At- 
torney at  the  Whistler  v.  Ruskin  trial,  "  I  do 
not  know  when  so  much  amusement  has  been 
offered  to  the  British  public  as  by  Mr.  Whis- 
tler's pictures."  The  artist  triumphed,  the  suc- 
cess of  the  exhibition  proved  the  futility  of  the 
early  judgments.  A  perusal  of  this  queer  doc- 
ument, even  to-day,  elicits  a  smile;  it  is  deli- 
cious humour  and  at  the  same  time  a  splendid 
assertion  of  artistic  power  and  self -adulation. 

The  first  New  York  exhibition  of  work  by 


118  The  Whistler  Book 

Whistler  was  held  in  the  old  Wunderlich  Gal- 
lery, on  Broadway,  in  March,  1889,  when 
sixty-two  "  Notes,"  "  Harmonies  "  and  "  Noc- 
turnes "  were  shown,  with  some  accessories  of 
yellow  hangings,  flowers,  furniture  and  foot- 
men imitation  of  the  London  exhibition  of 
1883.  But  this  sort  of  thing  is  rarely  success- 
ful in  this  country.  It  is  apt  to  be  misinter- 
preted, and  somehow  looks  out  of  place. 

One  of  the  finest  achievements  of  the  painter 
is  the  frame  which  rightly  bears  his  name. 
The  official  exhibitions  still  insist  on  the  usual 
monotony  of  gilt  frames,  and  the  painters 
seem  to  have  neither  any  particular  inclination 
nor  the  opportunity  to  create  frames  of  lovely 
forms  and  well-balanced  repeating  patterns  of 
their  own.  The  frame-makers  and  art-dealers 
are  masters  of  the  situation,  and  their  interests 
are  strictly  mercenary  ones. 

"  Attractive  enough  at  first  sight,  hopelessly 
inartistic  on  further  inspection,"  is  the  verdict 
which  one  has  to  give  of  the  average  frame  of 
to-day.  Only  a  few  of  our  painters  oppose  the 
mechanically  manufactured  frames.  They  have 
their  frames  specially  designed  for  each  pic- 
ture, Stanford  White  having  been  the  designer 
of  quite  a  number  of  them.  Their  frames  are 
wide  and  flat,  without  corners  and  centrepieces, 
the  repeating  pattern  is  generally  a  simple, 


Symphonies  in  Interior  Decoration   119 

classic  ornament,  with  a  tendency  toward  par- 
allel lines.  The  architectural  designs,  with 
Greek  columns  in  the  upright  sides,  are  rather 
heavy  and  less  recommendable.  Whistler's 
frames,  which  served  as  inspiration  to  all  these 
later-day  designers,  were  conceived  in  simple 
planes,  broken  with  parallel  grooves  that  were 
restful  to  the  eye  as  sole  ornamentation.  They 
were  original  inventions,  free  from  any  taint 
of  imitation.  The  gaudy  burnished  gold  effect 
was  substituted  by  pale  gold  and  bronze  that 
could  be  tinted  and  glazed  according  to  the 
principal  colour  note  of  the  pictures  the  frame 
was  designed  for.  They  are  so  simple  that 
it  is  difficult  to  improve  their  design.  But  he 
did  not  make  them  for  general  use,  he  merely 
suggested  to  other  painters  the  advantageous- 
ness  of  designing  their  own  frames,  as  is  now 
largely  customary. 

Whistler  has  performed  a  brave  deed.  If 
he  had  done  nothing  else  but  to  improve  our 
taste  in  the  arrangement  of  exhibitions  he 
would  be  remembered  for  many  years.  He 
has  done  far  more.  He  has  set  up  the  big  ideal 
of  simplicity.  His  eccentricities  and  harmonies 
of  decoration  may  not  live.  There  are  many 
men  working  on  the  same  problem  all  over  the 
Western  hemisphere,  and  his  peculiar  style  will 
undergo  many  modifications  and  improve- 


120  The  Whistler  Book 

merits,  but  we  should  never  forget  that  he  was 
one  of  the  first  who  opened  our  eyes  to  a  prac- 
ticable and  inexpensive  way  of  beautifying  our 
home  and  everyday  life. 


VISIONS  AND   IDENTIFICATIONS 

ALTHOUGH  remarkably  sure,  efficient  and 
successful  in  various  branches  of  art,  Whistler 
has  to  be  ranked  primarily  as  a  figure  painter. 
In  these  efforts  centre  his  greatness.  He  is, 
however,  only  a  figure  painter  in  a  modified 
sense.  We  look  in  vain  for  large  and  elab- 
orate compositions.  He  achieved  his  fame  as 
a  portrait  and  single  figure  painter. 

It  is  strange  that  a  man  who  had  the  science 
of  painting  at  his  finger  ends  should  limit  him- 
self to  single  figures.  Perhaps  he  knew  his 
limitations,  or,  the  limitation  of  his  peculiar 
view-point  as  to  what  painting  should  be  and 
could  accomplish.  Possibly  he  went  too  far 
in  his  elimination.  Who  can  say?  An  artist 
must  be  true  to  his  own  convictions,  and  the 
public  and  critics  must  accept,  and,  in  time, 
learn  to  appreciate  them.  Analysis  of  an  ar- 
tist's work  is  interesting  only  as  far  as  it  helps 
one  to  find  the  right  view-point  for  contempla- 
tion. 

121 


122 The  Whistler  Book 

Whistler,  of  course,  had  no  use  for  ordinary 
portraiture,  as  it  has  been  practised  for  cen- 
turies. He  felt,  no  doubt,  that  the  time  for 
idealization  as  well  as  realistic  interpretation 
of  likenesses  had  passed.  No  painter  can  sur- 
pass Van  Dyke  in  the  elegant  delineation  of 
men  and  women,  or  Franz  Hals  in  the  repre- 
sentation of  instantaneous  expression.  Whis- 
tler wanted  a  characteristic  attitude  that  ex- 
pressed in  a  simple  pose  or  movement  an  entire 
personality.  But  the  purely  technical  prob- 
lem fascinated  him  even  more,  to  express  him- 
self forcefully  in  black  and  dull  colours,  to 
paint  broadly  and  yet  so  delicately  that  no 
brushwork  became  visible,  and  to  create  the 
illusion  of  atmosphere  and  space  around  the 
human  form. 

His  first  picture  of  importance  (started  in 
•1859),  "  At  the  Piano,"  was  also  the  first  true 
Whistler,  not  only  the  Whistler  we  admire 
and  cherish  to-day  but  the  Whistler  who  has 
exercised  an  influence  on  modern  painting  and 
who  will  live  as  one  of  the  prominent  figures  in 
the  history  of  art.  I  have  rarely  seen  a  modern 
interior  treated  with  more  charm  and  simplic- 
ity. A  woman,  apparently  Lady  Haden,  in 
a  quaint  black  old-fashioned  gown,  is  seated 
at  the  piano,  from  which  she  seems  to  elicit 
some  vague  melancholy  chords,  while  a  little 


Visions  and  Identifications         123 

girl  in  white,  in  a  pensive  attitude,  stands  op- 
posite her,  in  the  curve  of  the  instrument. 
The  dark  silhouette  of  the  mother  is  beauti- 
fully balanced  by  the  white  form  of  the  little 
girl.  There  is  an  astonishing  number  of  hori- 
zontal lines  in  the  composition,  but  somehow 
they  are  not  noticed,  at  least  they  do  not  offend 
the  eye.  I  believe  the  diagonal  tendency  of 
the  figures  counteracts  all  other  lines.  One 
peculiarity  of  Whistler's  interiors  and  back- 
grounds is  that  they  nearly  always  represent 
a  straight  wall.  He  rarely  indulged  in  per- 
spective arrangements.  His  aim  was  breadth 
and  simplicity,  and  he  avoided  all  cheap  pic- 
torial effect.  Technically,  it  still  shows  the 
Stevens'  influence  —  it  could  almost  pass  for 
a  genre  picture  —  but  in  poetical  conception 
and  the  suggestion  of  a  mystic  atmosphere  it 
already  predicts  all  the  accomplishments  of 
the  artist's  prime. 

In  his  earlier  career  Whistler  occasionally 
made  use  of  more  elaborate  accessories,  as  in 
his  "Little  White  Girl,"  "The  Princess  of 
the  Porcelain  Land,"  and  the  "  Woman  in 
White."  The  latter  I  consider  one  of  his 
weakest  compositions.  The  figure  is  rather 
stiff  and  too  high  up  in  the  picture.  The  car- 
peted floor  looks  as  though  it  were  sloping. 
The  bottom  of  the  dress  is  too  distinct.  The 


124  The  Whistler  Book 

same  could  be  said  of  the  entire  contour,  the 
lines  are  not  sufficiently  graceful  to  permit 
such  clearness  of  line.  Also  as  a  painting  of  a 
white  figure  on  a  white  background  it  is  not 
unsurpassed.  "  Katherine  Emmerich,"  by 
Gabriel  Max,  at  the  Pinakothek,  Munich, 
and  the  Raffaelli's  "  Sleeping  Woman,"  in 
the  Wilstach  Gallery,  Philadelphia,  treat  the 
same  theme  but  are  technically  superior. 

Whistler  developed  slowly.  Only  grad- 
ually he  learned  to  avoid  detail  as  much  as 
possible,  and  only  occasionally  accentuated  it 
here  and  there,  as  a  note  of  contrast  to  the 
larger  planes.  The  years  1870-90  were  the 
most  active  and  important  years  of  his  career. 
Nearly  all  his  portraits,  those  of  Frederick 
Leyland,  Florence  Leyland,  Miss  Alexander, 
Rose  Corder,  Sarasate,  Sir  Henry  Irving  as 
Philip  II,  The  Fur  Jacket,  Lady  Archibald 
Campbell,  The  Artist's  Mother,  Carlyle,  The- 
odore Duret,  Mme.  Cassatt,  Mrs.  Huth,  Lady 
Meux,  etc.,  were  painted  in  that  period. 

All  these  later  pictures  were  painted  under 
the  ban  of  Velasquez.  In  Whistler's  paint- 
ings Velasquez's  art  was  revived  and  rejuve- 
nated. He  repeats  the  same  inspirations  but 
in  an  etherealized,  modernized  and  individual- 
ized manner.  Whistler  was  triumphantly 
himself. 


Visions  and  Identifications         125 

There  is  much  conjecture  as  to  how  Whis- 
tler acquired  his  knowledge  of  Velasquez. 
Joseph  Pennell  claims  that  Whistler  never 
went  to  the  Prado  in  Madrid.  Duret  tells  us, 
that  during  a  trip  to  Spain  in  1882,  he  in- 
tended to  go  to  Madrid,  but  on  the  way  was 
fascinated  by  the  scenery  around  Guethary 
(north  of  Biarritz)  to  such  an  extent  that  he 
prolonged  his  stay  until  it  was  time  to  return, 
without  having  crossed  the  Pyrenees.  Others, 
with  a  quizzical  mien,  say  that  he  might  have 
gone  without  letting  anybody  know  of  it.  It 
is  hardly  credible  that  he  did  not  see  the 
"Dwarfs,"  the  "Spinners,"  the  "Mercury 
and  Argus,"  the  "  Maria  Theresa,"  "  La  Meni- 
nas,"  "^Bsop,"  the  "  Menippus "  and  the 
"  Surrender  of  Breda." 

However  it  really  matters  little.  He  had 
seen  the  portraits  of  the  Hermitage  at  an  early 
age,  and  was  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the 
various  portraits  of  Philip  II  at  the  London 
National  Gallery.  In  this  age  of  handbooks 
one  can  study  Gozzoli  in  a  New  York  garret. 
Of  course  a  trip  to  Florence  might  prove  prof- 
itable, but  the  right  man,  with  the  proper 
amount  of  imagination,  knows  no  obstacle. 
His  intuition  will  help  him  to  get  thoroughly 
imbued  with  any  subject  he  is  bent  upon 
knowing. 


126  The  Whistler  Book 

The  portraits  are  all  single  figure  studies, 
with  a  plain  or  simple  background.  They  do 
nothing.  They  merely  convey  the  charm  of 
a  personality  as  seen  in  an  arrangement  of 
colour.  Whistler  was  a  keen  observer  of  facial 
expression  and  gesticulation  and  still  more  so 
of  that  other  no  less  telling  kind  of  expression, 
which  depends  upon  our  general  bearing,  and 
upon  the  way  we  move  our  limbs  and  body 
while  we  are  trying  to  convey  our  thoughts 
and  intentions  to  our  neighbours.  But  this 
was  not  the  principal  theme,  as  it  is  of  so  many 
portrait  painters.  To  him  the  very  soul  of 
art  was  elimination :  to  leave  out  all  that  could 
be  left  out.  He  realized  that  he  could  not 
proceed  in  the  elimination  process  as  gaily  and 
liberally  as  in  his  nocturnes.  He  needed  a 
more  convincing  sense  of  form,  a  certain  re- 
gard for  detail  —  no  matter  how  broadly  ren- 
dered —  and  a  feeling  for  accurate  line.  This 
fragmentary  representation  of  a  human  being 
requires  the  keenest  artistic  feeling,  to  know 
exactly  when  one  has  to  stop  in  the  process 
of  reducing  the  multiplicity  of  nature  to  sim- 
ple forms,  of  discarding  superficial  traits  of 
the  figure  and  retaining  only  the  essential 
ones.  For  elimination  is  only  half  the  game; 
selection  makes  up  the  rest.  The  sureness 
with  which  Whistler  stops  just  upon  the  bor- 


Visions  and  Identifications         127 

der  line  proves  his  genius.  However  vague 
and  enveloped  his  line  may  have  become,  it  has 
never  been  pushed  beyond  the  point  where  it 
falls  into  meaningless  and  spiritless  formless- 
ness. 

Whistler's  portraiture  may  be  summed  up 
as  a  never-ceasing  study  to  express  a  human 
personality  in  the  subtlest  way  imaginable. 
At  bottom  of  all  that  he  creates,  there  lies  the 
desire  to  make  his  figures  betray  their  char- 
acter, emotions,  and  their  whole  personality  by 
means  of  a  tonal  vision. 

In  the  portrait  of  Frederick  Leyland,  the 
"Medici  of  Liverpool"  (painted  1873), 
Whistler,  for  the  first  time,  introduced  the 
plain  background  without  accessories,  endeav- 
ouring to  subordinate  it  to  the  figure.  In  the 
portrait  the  figure  occupies  the  entire  length 
of  the  canvas,  and  yet  is  enveloped  in  atmos- 
phere. I  believe  this  is  largely  due  to  the 
vagueness  of  outline  and  the  accentuation  of 
the  principal  points  of  the  human  form  by 
touches  of  light,  as  the  headlights  on  the  silver 
buckle  of  the  shoe,  the  hand  on  the  hip  and  the 
gray  overcoat  over  the  left  arm.  The  blacks 
in  this  picture  have  a  marvellous  quality.  The 
painting  of  a  black  evening  suit  against  a 
pitch  black  background  is  one  of  the  master- 
pieces of  modern  technique,  over  which  future 


128  The  Whistler  Book 

ages  will  not  cease  to  marvel.  Also  the 
shadow  on  the  grey  floor  helps.  The  pose  is 
dignity  itself,  but  it  seems  to  me  that  the  artist 
did  not  quite  succeed  in  carrying  out  his  own 
ideal.  The  figure  makes  the  impression  as  if 
it  were  stepping  out  of  the  picture,  like  a 
Rubens. 

The  same  problem  occupied  him  for  years. 
He  succeeded  much  better  in  the  "  Rose 
Corder  "  and  "  The  Fur  Jacket;  "  and  in  the 
"  Lady  Archibald  Campbell,"  also  called  the 
"  Yellow  Buskin,"  he  actually  solved  the  prob- 
lem. The  picture  is  at  the  Wilstach  Gallery, 
Philadelphia,  and  everybody  who  has  seen  it 
will  realize,  or  feel,  at  least,  that  the  figure 
is  represented  as  if  actually  moving  in  space. 

Most  of  his  pictures  were  painted  in  ordi- 
nary rooms,  without  a  top  light,  partly,  no 
doubt,  because  he  wanted  to  paint  his  sitters 
under  natural,  not  artificial  conditions.  Also 
the  "  Rose  Corder  "  portrait,  painted  in  1876, 
carries  out  this  sensation.  This  portrait,  which 
was  purchased  by  Richard  A.  Canfield  from 
its  former  owner,  Graham  Robertson,  is 
entitled  "  An  Arrangement  in  Black  and 
Brown."  The  differentiation  of  brown  in  the 
hair,  fur,  felt  hat,  feather  and  floor  are  so 
subtle  and  beautiful,  that  it  would  be  almost 
impossible  to  go  any  further  in  the  exploita- 


Owned  by  Itichard  A.  Canjielrl 
ARRANGEMENT    IN    BLACK    AND    BROWN: 
CORDER. 


MISS   ROSE 


Visions  and  Identifications         129 

tion  of  one  colour.  The  person  who  can  ap- 
preciate the  subtleties  of  these  cool,  almost 
neutral  colours,  appreciates  Whistler.  It  was 
his  main  ambition,  even  to  that  extent  that  he 
wished  the  beholder  to  know  of  his  intention. 
And  that  is  no  doubt  the  main  reason  why  he 
called  his  portraits  "  Arrangements  and  Har- 
monies," even  as  other  artists  call  their  por- 
traits "  Interpretations,"  and  their  sculptured 
busts  "  Versions."  Titles  are  really  of  no 
importance.  They  are,  at  the  best,  only  an- 
notations, but,  as  long  as  they  are  deemed 
necessary,  they  ought  to  give  a  vague  sug- 
gestion of  the  subject  matter  or  reveal  the 
technical  aim  of  the  painter.  Whistler's  titles 
are  frequently  too  long,  but  they  generally 
convey  some  direct  and  valuable  information 
to  the  beholder. 

The  "  Florence  Leyland  "  portrait,  painted 
in  1873  —  at  The  Brooklyn  Museum  of  Art 
and  Sciences,  —  is  also  much  liked  by  painters. 
It  always  seemed  to  me  a  trifle  dismal  in  tone. 
The  greys  have  a  muddy  look  and  the  back- 
ground is  too  black  and  opaque.  It  is  a  study 
in  greys  and  blacks.  The  dress,  the  floor,  and 
the  feather  of  the  hat  are  grey.  The  hat  itself, 
the  gloves  and  the  bow  are  black.  Even  the 
handkerchief  and  the  white  ruffles  that  fall 
over  the  gloves  are  grey.  The  design  is  ele- 


130  The  Whistler  Book 

gant  and  visible,  but  swallowed  up  in  the  col- 
our. Its  success  or  f  ailure  depends  upon  your 
psychological  appreciation  of  colours.  If  you 
like  that  particular  combination  you  will  ad- 
mire the  picture,  and  otherwise  you  will  not, 
and  no  argument  will  persuade  you  to  accept 
it  as  a  masterpiece. 

Whistler's  unusually  low  key  in  the  major- 
ity of  his  portraits  strikes  us  as  peculiar,  even 
to  this  day.  There  are  no  gold,  rose  and 
mauve  flesh  tints  of  a  Titian  to  be  found  on 
his  canvases.  ;*  There  is  no  bloom  of  flesh 
which  emulates  the  gleam  of  a  pearl  or  the 
luminous  grain  of  a  camelia."  But  the  fault- 
finding is  largely  the  effect  of  our  being  accus- 
tomed to  high-keyed  portraiture.  Whistler 
explained  this,  in  his  drastic  manner,  in  an 
article  in  the  London  World,  July,  1886, 
which  we  quote  in  full : 

'  The  notion  that  I  paint  flesh  lower  in  tone 
than  it  is  in  nature  is  entirely  based  upon  the 
popular  superstition  as  to  what  flesh  really 
is  —  when  seen  on  canvas;  for  the  people 
never  look  at  nature  with  any  sense  of  pic- 
torial appearance  —  for  which  reason  —  by 
the  way  —  they  also  never  look  at  a  picture 
with  any  sense  of  nature,  but  unconsciously 
from  habit,  with  reference  to  what  they  see 
in  other  pictures. 


Visions  and  Identifications         131 

"  Now  in  the  usual  '  picture  of  the  year ' 
there  is  but  one  flesh  that  should  do  service 
under  all  circumstances,  whether  the  person 
painted  be  in  the  soft  light  of  the  room  or  in 
the  glare  of  the  open.  The  one  aim  of  this 
unsuspecting  painter  is  to  make  his  man  stand 
out  from  the  frame  —  never  doubting  that  on 
the  contrary,  he  should  really,  and  in  truth 
absolutely  does,  stand  within  the  frame  —  and 
at  a  depth  behind  it  equal  to  the  distance  at 
which  the  painter  sees  his  model,  and  nothing 
could  be  more  offensively  inartistic  than  this 
brutal  attempt  to  thrust  the  model  on  the 
hitherside  of  this  window.  Lights  have  been 
heightened,  until  the  white  of  the  tube  alone 
remains  —  shadows  have  been  deepened  until 
black  alone  is  left.  Scarcely  a  feature  stays 
in  its  place,  so  fierce  is  its  intention  of 
'  firmly '  coining  forth ;  and  in  the  midst  of 
this  unseemly  struggle  for  prominence,  the 
gentle  truth  has  but  a  sorry  chance,  falling 
flat  and  flavourless  and  without  force. 
Whereas,  could  the  people  be  induced  to  turn 
their  eyes  but  for  a  moment,  with  the  fresh 
power  of  comparison,  upon  their  fellow  crea- 
tures as  they  pass  in  the  gallery,  they  might 
be  made  dimly  to  perceive,  though  I  doubt  it, 
so  blind  is  their  belief  in  the  bad,  how  little 
they  resemble  the  impudent  images  on  the 


132  The  Whistler  Book 

wall !  how  '  quiet '  in  colour  they  are,  how 
grey  and  low  in  tone.  And  then  it  might  be 
explained  to  their  riveted  intelligence  how 
they  had  mistaken  meretriciousness  for  mas- 
tery and  by  what  methods  the  imposture  had 
been  practised  upon  them." 

People  on  the  whole  prefer  brightness  to 
aesthetic  gloom,  and  refuse  to  accept  the  un- 
adulterated truth.  "A  beautiful  picture! 
But  I  would  not  like  to  see  my  wife  or  mother 
painted  that  way,"  is  the  general  verdict  at 
a  Whistler  exhibition.  And  it  includes  peo- 
ple who  should  know  better.  I>o  not  even 
learned  critics  excuse  the  low-keyed,  ash  grey 
tints  of  Velasquez  faces  by  asserting  that  he 
wished  to  symbolize  the  doom  of  Spanish  feu- 
dalism by  their  paleness?  Ridiculous!  A 
proud  Spanish  cavalier  himself,  such  a  thought 
would  never  have  entered  his  head.  He 
painted  them  with  a  bloodless  enervated  com- 
plexion, because  they  had  that  kind  of  com- 
plexion and  because  he,  as  a  realistic  painter, 
objected  to  any  idealizing  process. 

It  can,  however,  be  safely  stated  that  Whis- 
tler frequently  went  too  far  in  his  search  for 
dark  tonalities.  But  there  was  a  reason  for 
it.  No  primary  colour  is  agreeable  with  black. 
If  black  is  the  favourite  colour  he  must  ex- 
clude yellow,  red,  and  blue  or  paint  them 


Visions  and  Identifications         133 

exceedingly  low  as  Tissot  has  done  in  his 
"  Prodigal  Son  "  series.  Yellow  is  the  easiest 
colour  to  manage,  as  black  impoverishes  its 
tone.  The  secondary  colours,  like  orange, 
green,  and  violet,  lend  themselves  more  read- 
ily to  any  scheme  where  black  furnishes  the 
prominent  note,  but  they  must  be  dull,  obscure 
and  possess  no  brilliancy.  White,  on  the  other 
hand,  as  Whistler  so  fully  realized  in  his 
"  Lady  Meux,  No.  I,"  will  always  produce  by 
its  extreme  difference  a  harmony  of  contrast. 

The  most  suitable  colours  for  a  combina- 
tion with  black  are  the  neutral  colours,  like 
grey  and  brown,  or  delicate  tints,  like  pink 
and  olive,  russet  and  citrine.  At  these  con- 
clusions every  student  of  the  harmony  and  con- 
trasts of  colour  must  naturally  arrive.  And 
Whistler  conquered  his  knowledge  by  actual 
experiments.  It  was  no  whim.  As  long  as 
he  favoured  black  he  could  not  change  his  col- 
our schemes.  His  colouring  had  to  be  kept 
cool  and  the  few  tones  of  luminous  colours 
that  he  introduced  had  to  be  broken  and  neu- 
tralized. The  scientific  facts  underlying  his 
colour  moods  should  answer  all  futile  ques- 
tions of  why  he  selected  such  deep  and  sombre 
colour  combinations.  We  all  realize  that  he 
is  no  colourist  in  the  sense  of  Memling,  Pin- 
turicchio,  Titian,  Rubens,  Fragonard,  Dela- 


134  The  Whistler  Book 

croix,  Makart  or  Roybet,  he  does  not  even 
show  us  as  much  variety  as  Constable  or  Is- 
raels or  an  Impressionist. 

I  say  Impressionist,  because  an  Impression- 
ist's canvas  can  be  deprived  of  colour  (and 
how  many  are)  as  much  as  any  black-in-black 
arrangement  of  a  Tissot  or  Ribot.  The  high 
key  does  not  save  a  picture  from  being  colour- 
less. Colour  means  the  full  use  of  the  palette, 
green,  blue,  red,  and  yellow,  on  one  canvas 
as  distinct  sensations  and  not  modified  into  a 
general  tint.  The  majority  of  Impressionists 
are  tonalists  not  colourists.  Franz  Hals  and 
Velasquez  were  fond  of  black  and  greys  but 
rarely  lacked  the  sense  of  conveying  a  delicate 
colour  impression.  Whistler,  who,  in  his  por- 
traits is  a  great  tonalist  but  never  a  colourist, 
displays  the  same  faculty  in  his  best  work,  but 
in  some  instances  his  subtle  touch  seems  to 
have  forsaken  him,  and  the  result  was  a  dull 
tonality  as  in  his  "  Florence  Leyland."  A 
similar  colour  scheme  but  of  great  charm  is 
represented  in  "  La  Belle  Americaine  "  (the 
only  picture  that  in  subject  matter  bears  any 
relation  to  America).  The  grey  tight-fitting 
gown  and  the  black  boa  around  the  neck  in 
conjunction  with  the  assertive  and  yet  so  non- 
chalant pose  have  a  singular  charm.  As  soon 
as  the  outlines  of  a  figure  are  too  much  oblit- 


Visions  and  Identifications         135 

crated  the  charm  of  colour  seems  to  vanish. 
Colour  alone  cannot  hold  it.  It  demands  form 
to  balance  it.  Whistler  said  that  painting  was 
every  bit  as  much  a  science  as  mathematics.  I 
fear  at  times  he  considered  it  too  much  a  sci- 
ence, at  least  as  far  as  his  colour  was  con- 
cerned. He  painted  figures,  indoors,  so  low  in 
tone  that  he  could  have  added  a  streak  of  real 
sunshine  at  its  proper  value  to  the  picture. 
If  his  darkest  canvases  grow  darker  still  with 
age,  they  will  be  almosff  indistinguishable. 
But  his  scientific  attitude  rarely  played  him 
false  in  composition. 

Having  painted  only  single  figures,  it  has 
been  doubted  whether  he  had  any  extensive 
knowledge  of  figure  composition.  This  seems 
to  be  a  futile  question.  It  is  my  contention 
that  he  limited  himself  to  one  figure  represen- 
tation, because  he  knew  all  about  "  Old  Mas- 
ter "  composition. 

He  wanted  one  big  total  effect  and  did  not 
see  how  it  could  have  been  reached,  or  had  been 
ever  reached  by  anybody  except  by  one  single 
figure.  He  had  nothing  in  common  with  the 
representation  of  history,  legend  or  myth  and 
much  less  of  genre,  realism  of  the  gutter,  or 
descriptive  painting.  He  wanted  to  represent 
modern  men  and  women  in  the  costume  of 
to-day.  So  he  chose  the  single  standing  or 


136  The  Whistler  Book 

seated  figure.  Why  did  he  never  paint  a 
group!  Perhaps  he  had  found  it  impossible 
to  obtain  in  a  more  elaborate  composition  the 
result  that  he  cherished  most.  A  painter  must 
paint  from  the  model,  to  approach  any  degree 
of  verity.  A  Monticelli  may  "  fake  "  or  paint 
from  imagination,  but  his  colour  masses  are  a 
different  proposition  than  life-size  figures. 
The  fact  must  be  before  one's  eyes  to  render 
them  accurately.  One  figure  in  modern  cos- 
tume offers  such  facts  in  a  natural  manner. 
An  elaborate  group  can  be  secured  only  with 
difficulty,  and  will  never  look  quite  natural. 
Whistler  knew  his  strength,  and  did  not  waste 
superior  energy  for  a  less  satisfactory  result. 
This  was  scientific  restraint. 

And  how  he  controlled  the  various  forms  of 
representation.  He  invariably  chose  the  most 
favourable  position.  A  standing  figure  offers 
the  widest  scope  of  characterization  when 
shown  in  a  full  front  view.  Nearly  all  his 
men,  Sarasate,  Duret,  and  Irving  are  drawn 
in  that  position.  But  a  seated  figure  is  shown 
to  the  best  advantage  in  a  clear  profile,  every 
student  of  composition  must  arrive  at  the  con- 
clusion, and  there  was  nothing  else  to  do  but 
to  paint  his  "  Mother  "  and  "  Carlyle  "  in  that 
attitude.  Women  on  the  other  hand  are  more 
picturesque  in  outline,  also  look  well,  stand- 


WUstach  Gallery,  Philadelphia 

ARRANGEMENT  IN  BLACK:   LADY  ARCHIBALD  CAMPBELL 
(THE  YELLOW  BUSKIN). 


Visions  and  Identifications         137 

ing,  in  profile  with  slightly  turned  face,  viz., 
"Rose  Corder,"  "Miss  Alexander,"  "The 
Yellow  Buskin,"  "  The  Fur  Jacket,"  "  Mrs. 
Huth,"  "  Lady  Meux  No.  2."  Also  in  the 
delineation  of  the  human  face  he  preferred  the 
simple  full-face  view,  with  just  a  slight  shift 
to  the  right  or  left  to  show  the  line  of  the  nose. 
The  three-quarter  view  is  undoubtedly  more 
picturesque,  and  when  he  painted  small  heads, 
among  them  his  own,  he  frequently  used  it. 
In  the  larger  portraits  he  wanted  dignity, 
breadth,  and  simplicity  and  he  sacrificed  every- 
thing to  that  effect. 

The  portraits  of  Miss  Cecily  Henrietta 
Alexander  (painted  in  1872),  and  Mr.  Theo- 
dore Duret  (painted  in  1883),  show  perhaps 
in  the  clearest  way  that  he  always  worked  on 
the  same  problem.  They  are,  one  may  say, 
the  uniting  link  between  the  Japanese  pe- 
riod and  the  "  Carlyle "  and  "The  Artist's 
Mother,"  his  most  finished  and  perfect  work. 
They  have  more  colour  and  grace  than  most 
of  his  pictures,  and  show  the  figures  with  some 
accessories.  Both  linger  in  one's  mind  as  a 
vision  of  select  refinement. 

Little  Miss  Alexander,  with  her  plumed  hat 
in  her  hand  and  her  white  dress  relieved  by 
grey  and  black  accents  against  a  general  back- 
ground, depicts  a  "  pose  "  such  as  the  painter 


138  The  Whistler  Book 

seldom  indulged  in.  There  is  a  flavour  of  ar- 
istocratic coquetry,  a  flavour  of  Gainsbor- 
ough and  Boldini  in  this  attitude,  an  attribute 
that  in  this  instance  is  as  important  to  the  pic- 
ture as  the  unusual  colour  scale.  It  took  him 
years  to  finish  this  picture,  and  nobody  can 
appreciate  how  many  weary  hours  of  anguish 
it  cost  the  little  model.  More  than  once  it 
reduced  her  to  tears.  One  day  as  she  was  en- 
tering the  studio  she  met  Carlyle,  who  was 
sitting  also  for  his  portrait.  "  Puir  lassie! 
Puir  lassie ! "  he  said.  But  Whistler  had  no 
pity.  He  had  but  little  consideration  for  his 
sitters  or  models;  he  forgot  their  presence  as 
soon  as  he  became  entangled  in  the  intricacies 
of  his  technique. 

The  Duret  on  the  other  hand  shows  superior 
characterization.  It  may  be  because  the  figure 
is  more  clearly  silhouetted,  the  outlines  of 
the  gaunt  figure  are  as  plain  as  they  can  be. 
The  painter  tried  to  brighten  up  the  black 
suit  problem  with  a  light  background  and  pink 
domino.  The  strange  combination  of  an  awk- 
ward shape,  with  almost  a  touch  of  brutality 
in  its  make-up,  and  the  gay  insignia  of  an 
opera  ball,  the  domino  and  red  fan,  arouse  a 
feeling  of  grotesque  drollery,  and  yet  it  is  all 
so  forbiddingly  proud  that  one  is  strongly 
fascinated  by  the  canvas. 


Visions  and  Identifications         139 

One  of  the  most  important  portraits  that 
compete  with  the  Leyland,  Duret  and  Miss 
Alexander  is  the  "Arrangement  in  Black:  — 
Portrait  of  the  Senor  Pablo  de  Sarasate," 
painted  about  1884. 

Here  we  have  the  true  Whistler  atmosphere, 
the  blurred  contour  of  the  violinist's  figure, 
which  melts  into  the  background  without  los- 
ing the  form,  the  elimination  of  all  unnecessary 
details  and  accessories,  and  the  concentration 
of  light  on  the  face,  shirt-front,  hands  and 
cuffs.  It  is  astonishing  how  few  bright  planes 
there  are  in  most  of  Whistler's  portraits.  In 
the  "  Sarasate  "  the  lighted  planes  scarcely  oc- 
cupy one-thirtieth  part  of  the  picture.  The 
rest  is  all  darkness,  except  the  vague  shimmer 
on  the  floor,  suggesting  the  footlight  on  the 
platform  of  a  concert  hall.  The  light  floor 
is  one  of  the  leading  characteristics  of  his  sin- 
gle standing  figures.  It  helps  to  suggest 
space.  There  is  depth  in  the  background;  it 
is  not  opaque  like  most  backgrounds  but  vi- 
brant with  subtle  differentiations  of  values. 
The  figure  is  standing  in  space.  One  might 
think  at  first  that  this  is  brought  about  by  the 
smallness  of  the  figure. 

Joseph  Pennell  says  that  "  what  Whistler 
was  trying  to  do  was  to  paint  the  man  on  a 
shadowy  concert  platform  as  the  audience  saw 


140  The  Whistler  Book 

him."  Sarasate  is  intended  to  look  small,  less 
than  life-size,  as  he  would  appear  upon  the 
concert  stage.  I  do  not  agree  with  this.  I 
have  heard  Sarasate  play  in  Europe  and 
America  but  never  saw  him  on  a  shadowy 
platform.  To  me  the  conception  is  a  much 
bigger  one.  This  is  not  the  Sarasate  of  ordi- 
nary life,  nor  is  it  the  one  we  know  from  the 
concert  hall.  The  artist  has  attempted  to  sug- 
gest the  whole  atmosphere  that  surrounds  the 
life  of  musical  genius.  And  he  accomplished 
it  by  introducing  a  male  figure  in  an  ordinary 
dress-suit  with  a  shimmering  shirt  front, 
the  outlines  of  which  are  lost  in  vibrant  empti- 
ness. Only  the  violin  and  bow  occupy  a 
certain  prominence.  "  All  is  balanced  by 
the  bow,'*  as  Whistler  remarked  to  Sidney 
Starr. 

The  figure  always  seemed  to  me  a  trifle 
small.  I  personally  prefer  the  Leyland  size, 
as  it  is  more  dignified.  It  does  not  seem  log- 
ical to  sacrifice  beauty  and  breadth  to  a  mere 
illusion. 

The  whole  tonal  school  and  pictorial 
photography  in  particular  have  been  influ- 
enced by  the  "  Pablo  Sarasate,"  now  at  the 
Carnegie  Art  Institute,  Pittsburg,  Pennsyl- 
vania. It  gives  unparalleled  joy  to  the  fol- 
lowers of  dark  tonalities.  As  usual  the  imi- 


Visions  and  Identifications         141 

tators  —  painters  as  well  as  photographers  — 
have  exaggerated  the  extreme  rather  than  nor- 
mal aspect  of  the  painter's  art. 

For  what  is  most  to  be  admired  technically 
in  Whistler  is  the  frugality,  the  thinness  of  his 
brushwork,  that,  despite  the  low  pitch  and  flat- 
ness of  its  colour  tints,  reveals  an  astounding 
variety,  subtlety  and  virility,  a  vibrancy  that 
seems  to  radiate  from  the  canvas.  For  un- 
obtrusiveness  of  paint  Whistler  has  few  rivals. 
In  comparison  with  him  Monet  seems  a  ple- 
beian and  Sargent  a  sleight  of  hand  performer. 
He  combines  the  fanaticism  of  a  perfect  tech- 
nique with  the  search  for  truth  and  a  desire 
to  create  new  sensations,  and  expresses  our 
breathless  modern  life,  with  all  its  intricate 
moods.  His  art  revels  in  the  realms  of  imag- 
ination unknown  to  Manet's  realism,  and 
Zorn's  and  Sargent's  pyrotechnical  displays  of 
technique  look  barbarous  in  comparison  to 
Whistler's  smooth,  fluid,  unerring  brushwork, 
which  masters  all  the  optical  illusions  of  this 
world  with  wizard-like  dexterity. 

He  created  a  style  for  himself,  and  his  space 
and  colour  arrangements  have  exerted  a  deep 
and  lasting  influence  on  modern  painting. 
Whether  he  is  as  great  a  painter  as  some  crit- 
ics make  him  —  whether  he  is  as  "  big  "  as 
Franz  Hals,  for  instance,  is  still  a  matter  of 


142  The  Whistler  Book 

discussion.  He  will  always  live  in  the  his- 
tory of  art  as  being  the  first  man  who  com- 
bined the  beauties  of  Eastern  design  with  the 
principles  of  Western  art.  The  mysterious 
atmosphere  of  some  of  his  canvases  (from 
which  solid  forms  emerge  or  recede  into) ,  is  a 
poetic  translation  of  Japanese  suggestive- 
ness  —  which  does  not  care  to  create  an  illu- 
sion, but  rather  suggests  it.  Whistler  in  his 
portraits  was  not  an  initiator  of  a  new  art  like 
Monet  in  his  landscapes.  He  was  the  last  and 
most  perfect  of  an  old  school.  He  merely 
pushed  to  their  extreme  consequence  the  prin- 
ciples which  all  great  painters  since  Velasquez 
have  championed.  He  followed  more  closely 
what  one  might  call  the  thematic  development 
of  tone,  and  discerned  more  plainly  the  sig- 
nificance and  mystery  that  lie  hidden  in 
blurred  objects. 

The  portrait  of  the  aesthete,  Count  Robert 
de  Montesquieu  de  Fezensac,  who  honoured 
this  shore  with  a  visit  (painted  in  1890-91 ) ,  was 
one  of  the  last  pictures  of  this  series.  Whistler 
undertook  several  portraits  of  this  peculiar, 
high-strung  personality  but  finished  only  one. 
He  explained  "  that  it  was  impossible  to  pro- 
duce the  same  masterpiece  twice  over  —  as 
difficult  as  for  a  hen  to  lay  the  same  egg  over 
twice."  The  pose  is  one  of  hauteur  as  be- 


Owned  by  Richard  A.  Canfield 
ARRANGEMENT  IN    BLACK   AND   GOLD: 
MONTESQUIOU. 


COMTE   DE 


Visions  and  Identifications         143 

comes  the  author  of  "  Les  Hortenses  Bleus." 
He  wears  a  dress-suit,  and  a  dark  overcoat 
with  a  grey  lining  is  thrown  over  his  arm  while 
the  other  arm  thrusts  forth  a  slender  cane-like 
sword.  As  it  is  so  frequently  the  case  with 
Whistler's  arrangement,  it  is  more  a  play  with 
colour  than  a  character  delineation.  A  char- 
acter delineation  plus  tone  is  surely  more  ad- 
mirable than  mere  tonality  or  mere  character 
delineation.  In  his  "  Ley  land,"  "  Mother," 
"  Duret,"  and  "  Carlyle "  he  accomplished 
both.  In  this  one  he  only  excelled  in  one.  I 
also  fail  to  see  why  he  called  it  "  Black  and 
Gold,"  as  I  cannot  discover  the  slightest  sug- 
gestion of  gold.  It  is  brown  and  black.  There 
is  little  use  in  reviewing  each  of  his  arrange- 
ments separately  as  they  all  carry  out  the  same 
principle. 

In  his  two,  perhaps,  most  important  pic- 
tures, which  are  generally  conceded  to  be  his 
masterpieces,  his  "  Carlyle  "  and  "  The  Ar- 
tist's Mother,"  both  arrangements  in  black 
and  grey,  the  painter  is  a  trifle  more  precise  in 
line.  He  depicted,  as  background,  actual  walls 
of  a  room  and  made  an  unusual  excursion  to 
the  domain  of  space  arrangement.  Had  he  at 
the  time  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  a  deep 
sentiment,  no  matter  how  vague,  as  that  of  a 
great  philosopher  and  an  adorable  woman,  can 


144  The  Whistler  Book 

be  rendered  successfully  by  illusion  rather 
than  suggestion! 

The  "  Carlyle  "  was  exhibited  as  early  as 
1877,  and  purchased  after  many  weary  nego- 
tiations by  the  Glasgow  City  Gallery  in  1891. 
It  is  a  masterpiece  of  characterization,  of  tone 
and  space  composition.  It  is  a  most  formi- 
dable object  lesson  to  any  portraitist.  Notice 
how  purely  simple  and  well  balanced  the  com- 
position of  "  Carlyle  "  is,  how  all  the  details 
of  dress  have  been  eliminated,  how  the  outline 
has  been  accentuated  against  the  background, 
how  naturally  the  figure  is  seated,  and  how 
well  it  has  been  placed  in  space.  There  is  an 
atmosphere  around  the  figure.  One  feels  that 
the  person  is  seated  in  a  room. 

The  same  can  be  said  of  the  composition  in 
the  portrait  of  "  The  Artist's  Mother,"  at  the 
Luxembourg  Gallery,  Paris.  It  was  first  ex- 
hibited at  the  Royal  Academy  in  London.  In 
the  season  of  1882  it  appeared  in  America,  and 
then  was  shown  at  the  Paris  Salon  in  1888. 
It  was  also  seen  in  Munich,  and  was  finally 
purchased  by  the  French  Government  in  1891. 
The  simple  pose,  the  delicate  way  of  handling 
detail  in  the  lace  cap  and  the  hands,  the  mas- 
terly space  arrangement,  produced  largely  by 
the  rectangular  curtain  and  the  silhouette  of 
the  figure,  the  fine  sense  of  values,  and  the 


City  Art  Gallery,  Glasgow 

ARRANGEMENT   IN    BLACK   AND    GRAY.      THOMAS   CARLYLE. 


Visions  and  Identifications         145 

clever  way  in  which  he  utilizes  a  few  frames  to 
break  the  monotony  of  the  background  all  have 
been  commented  upon  a  hundred  times.  No 
modern  painting  has  been  more  talked  about 
and  more  frequently  imitated  than  this  one, 
but  none  of  the  adaptations  has  reached  or 
surpassed  its  "  pathos  and  tender  depth  of  ex- 
pression." Technically  it  is  perfect. 

It  is  not  the  technique,  however,  which  prin- 
cipally interests  us  in  the  picture.  Just  as  in 
his  "  Sarasate,"  Whistler  attempted  in  his 
"  Mother  "  to  give  us  the  whole  atmosphere 
that  surrounds  a  personality.  Old  Mrs.  Whis- 
tler was  a  stern  Presbyterian  and  her  religious 
views  must  have  been  trying  to  her  son.  Yet 
"  Jimmy,"  though  he  used  to  give  a  queer 
smile  when  he  mentioned  them,  never  in  any 
way  complained  of  the  old  lady's  strict  Sabba- 
tarian notions,  to  which  he  bowed  without  re- 
monstrance. This  differentiation  of  character 
between  mother  and  son  explains  much  of  the 
rigid  Quaker-like  and  yet  so  sympathetic  pose 
of  the  picture. 

The  artist  does  not  merely  represent  his  old 
mother.  He  endowed  the  old  woman,  sitting 
pensively  in  a  grey  interior,  with  one  of  the 
noblest  and  mightiest  emotions  the  human  soul 
is  capable  of  —  the  reverence  and  calm  we  feel 
in  the  presence  of  our  own  aging  mother.  And 


146  The  Whistler  Book 

with  this  large  and  mighty  feeling,  in  which  all 
discords  of  mannerisms  are  dissolved,  and,  by 
the  tonic  values  of  two  ordinary  dull  colours, 
he  succeeded  in  writing  an  epic,  a  symphony 
domestica,  of  superb  breadth  and  beauty  — 
a  symbol  of  the  mother  of  all  ages  and  all 
lands,  slowly  aging  as  she  sits  pensively  amidst 
the  monotonous  colours  of  modern  life.  Noth- 
ing simpler  and  more  dignified  has  been  cre- 
ated in  modern  art. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

IN   QUEST  OF  LINE  EXPRESSION 

"ARTIST,  thou  art  king!  Art  is  the  true 
empire!  When  thy  hand  has  drawn  a  perfect 
line,  the  cherubims  themselves  descend  to  de- 
light themselves  in  it  as  in  a  mirror,"  wrote 
Merodack  Peladan,  in  his  preface  to  the  Cat- 
alogue of  the  Salon  de  la  Rose-Croix  (1892). 
He  expressed  a  great  truth,  that  macabre  and 
cabalistic  poet-artist. 

There  is  nothing  more  exquisite,  more  en- 
joyable, perhaps,  to  the  art  lovers  than  a  per- 
fect line.  Pure  line  expression,  as  it  is  found 
in  Diirer,  Harunobu,  Raphael,  and  Ingres,  is 
a  pleasure  apart  from  all  other  pictorial  rep- 
resentations. It  is  more  intellectual  and  more 
remote  from  all  sensuous  pleasure  than  colour, 
tone,  light  or  shade.  It  is  a  language  of  itself 
which  enables  the  artist  to  convey  an  abstract 
impression  of  his  individuality. 

And  no  medium  expresses  line  in  as  pure 
and  unadulterated  a  fashion  as  etching.  It 
makes  the  most  of  it.  Etching  is  the  true  wor- 

147 


148  The  Whistler  Book 

ship  of  linear  expression.  In  all  other  medi- 
ums there  is  a  slight  desire  to  hide  line,  it 
merely  serves  as  an  accessory.  In  etching  it 
reigns  supreme.  There  are  no  obstacles  to  the 
etching  needle  except  incompetence.  It  trans- 
lates every  wish  of  the  artist,  the  slightest  ac- 
cent or  deviation  with  unerring  precision  and 
vitality.  The  Japanese,  no  doubt,  achieved 
the  greatest  mastery  of  the  drawn  line  that 
has  ever  been  known  to  history.  Only  the  line 
form  of  the  Greek  competes  with  it.  The  Jap- 
anese artists  revelled  in  line  expression,  and  it 
passed  through  all  possible  variations,  from 
the  sweep  of  Tanyu's  brush  and  the  classic 
curve  of  Harunobu  to  the  angular  Diirer-like 
twist  of  Hokusai.  But  even  their  line,  un- 
less made  by  the  brush,  cannot  rival  in  virility, 
delicacy  and  precision  the  line  of  a  master 
etcher. 

In  his  paintings  Whistler  sacrificed  line  too 
much.  He  felt  that  he  had  to  find  a  medium 
in  which  he  had  absolute  freedom  to  satisfy  his 
desire  and  so  he  alighted  upon  etching.  A 
draughtsman  so  sure  of  himself,  so  adroit  at 
realizing  by  simple  contrasts  of  black  and 
white  all  the  effects  of  which  that  austere, 
monochromatic  medium  is  capable  of,  did  not, 
one  supposes,  find  himself  unprepared  to  use 
the  needle,  and,  indeed,  at  the  first  attempt, 


LA    VIEILLE    AUX    LOQUE8  "    (ETCHING). 


In  Quest  of  Line  Expression       149 

Whistler  proved  himself  a  successful  etcher. 
True  enough,  his  earliest  work,  like  "  La  Vi- 
eille  aux  Loques,"  "  La  Marchande  de  Mou- 
tarde,"  "  La  Cuisine,"  and  "  La  Mere  Gerard," 
betrays  a  keen  sense  of  the  beauty  of  material ; 
but  they  are,  after  all,  conventional  produc- 
tions and  show  a  slight  influence  of  Rem- 
brandt's etchings  and  the  Little  Dutch  Mas- 
ters. They  are  attempts  at  realistic  picture- 
making,  and,  no  matter  how  broadly  the  ob- 
jects are  conceived  and  carried  out,  look  spotty. 
The  light  and  shade  division  could  be  more  sci- 
entific, and  the  tonality  consequently  a  finer 
one.  Too  many  little  things  fill  out  the  pic- 
torial scheme.  He  still  worked  for  the  effect 
of  dignified  completeness  and  had  not  yet 
learned  to  apply  his  later  sense  of  elimination. 
The  certainty  and  freedom  of  his  draughts- 
manship is  always  admirable.  There  is  no 
academic  pedantry  in  his  drawing  and  no  labo- 
rious effort.  The  beholder  is  charmed  by  its 
fascinating  expressiveness  and  delightful  flexi- 
bility. His  perspective  views  and  figure  sub- 
jects convey  an  impression  of  unhesitating 
knowledge  of  form  and  contour  and  of  an 
exact  understanding  of  subtleties  of  modelling. 
They  show  no  struggle  with  difficulties  of 
statement;  everything  seems  to  come  right, 
as  a  matter  of  course,  and  to  fit  together  natu- 


150  The  Whistler  Book 

rally  without  any  deliberate  intention  on  his 
part. 

It  was  in  1855-58,  during  a  trip  to  Alsace 
Lorraine  with  Delonney,  an  artist  friend,  when 
he  made  his  first  attempts  at  etching.  A  few 
dated  prints  like  the  "  Scene  in  Alsatian  Vil- 
lage "  and  "  Street  at  Saverne  "  of  this  period 
are  highly  treasured  by  collectors,  and  pro- 
nounced as  good  as  any  that  came  after.  A 
few  years  later,  in  the  sixties,  he  took  up  the 
process  more  seriously  and  remained  its  ardent 
disciple  ever  afterwards.  In  the  eighties  he 
devoted  more  time  to  his  etchings,  pastels  and 
water  colours  than  to  larger  paintings.  His 
fastidious  love  for  rare  and  picturesque  sub- 
jects made  him  select  a  number  of  favourite 
sketching  grounds.  They  were  the  Thames 
embankments,  of  which  he  never  tired,  the 
French  towns  of  Tours,  Bourges  and  Loches, 
also  Venice,  and  the  Netherlands.  Of  course, 
like  every  true  artist,  he  etched  everything 
that  appealed  to  him.  There  are  numerous 
London  and  Paris  sketches,  scenes  from  Ajac- 
cio  and  Algiers,  and  many  figure  composi- 
tions, character  studies  and  portraits.  But 
his  French,  Thames,  Belgium,  Holland  and 
two  Venice  series  are  probably  the  most  in- 
teresting from  a  collector's  point  of  view,  as 
they  combine  in  a  more  pronounced  manner 


STREET   IN   8AVERNE    (ETCHING). 


In  Quest  of  Line  Expression       151 

direct  Whistlerian  methods  with  the  quest  of 
line  expression. 

His  first  designs  of  the  Thames  series  were 
made  in  1859.  Some  few  themes  recur  with 
many  variations,  such  as  the  battered  shop- 
fronts  of  Chelsea,  "  The  Pool,"  the  London 
bridges,  the  barges  on  the  river,  and  the  wharfs, 
warehouses  and  factories,  like  "  Price's  Candle 
Works."  A  few  years  later  he  made  a  trip 
through  the  northern  part  of  France,  and  one 
of  the  finest  results  was  the  "  learned,  spirited  " 
"  Hotel  de  Ville  at  Loches." 

In  1879  he  made  his  first  trip  to  Venice, 
stayed  fourteen  months  and  made  forty-four 
etchings  during  the  time,  including  "  Little 
Venice,"  "  San  Biagio,"  and  "  The  Garden." 
In  later  years  Holland  attracted  him  almost 
as  much  as  the  city  of  the  Adriatic.  It  is  in- 
teresting to  note  his  absolute  disdain  of  lit- 
erary associations.  To  him  Venice  was  not, 
as  to  Heine,  the  city  of  Shakespeare.  When 
he  crossed  the  Rialto  and  Piazzetta  he  did  not 
hear  the  voice  of  Shylock  lamenting  for  his 
daughter,  nor  did  he  conjure  up  splendid  vis- 
ions of  decayed  power,  as  did  Ruskin  in  his 
"  Stones  of  Venice."  The  Venice  of  Claude 
Lorraine  and  Turner  existed  for  him  as  little 
as  the  panoramic  suavity  of  a  Canaletto.  He 
was  satisfied  with  sitting  at  a  little  trattoria 


152  The  Whistler  Book 

near  the  old  Post  Office,  at  Florian's,  or  in  his 
simple  sitting  room  at  San  Barnaba,  dreaming 
of  some  linear  expression  of  an  old  bridge  or 
archway,  of  some  enchanted  fragment  of  vis- 
ion, or  a  peculiar  flush  of  colour  over  the  Grand 
Canal.  To  him  Venice  was  a  modern  city.  He 
only  saw  what  was  actually  there,  and  when 
it  fascinated  him,  he  seized  his  burin  or  crayon 
and  endeavoured,  with  frank  directness,  to 
record  the  pictorial  event.  He  invariably 
chose  subjects  that  appealed  to  the  experi- 
enced collector  rather  than  the  general  public. 
He  never  idealized  or  conventionalized,  nor 
did  he  belong  to  those  who  only  see  the  ugly 
side  of  life,  its  squalor  and  unpicturesqueness. 
Some  of  Whistler's  admirers  have  pro- 
nounced him  not  only  the  greatest  etcher  of 
the  day,  but  of  all  times,  and  compared  him 
to  Rembrandt.  This  comparison  is  not  with- 
out justification,  inasmuch  as  Whistler  was 
not  a  professional  etcher  but  a  great  artist 
who,  like  Rembrandt,  took  up  the  etching 
point  as  an  instrument  for  new  expression. 
They  both  sketched  with  wonderful  freedom. 
They  were  no  mechanics ;  under  their  hands  the 
point  lost  the  engraving  look  and  became  won- 
derfully free.  Still,  to  say  that  Whistler  was 
the  best  etcher  of  the  day  is  rather  a  sweeping 
expression.  Lalanne,  Jacquemart,  Appian, 


PORTRAIT    OP   DROUET    (ETCHING). 


In  Quest  of  Line  Expression       153 

Veyrasset,  Meyrion,  Zorn,  Pennell,  Raff  aelli, 
Rops  and  Klinger  are  all  wonderful  etchers. 
In  painting,  his  mastership  is  indisputable.  In 
etching  I  do  not  feel  it  quite  as  keenly.  There 
is  not  the  slightest  doubt  that  etchings  like 
"  Jo,"  "  The  Adam  and  Eve  Tavern,"  "  Chel- 
sea," "Soupe  a  Trois  Sous,"  "The  Lion's 
Wharf,"  the  beautiful  little  still  life  "The 
Wine  Glass,"  the  portrait  of  "  Becquet,"  "  Un- 
safe Tenement,"  the  "  Battersea  Bridge  "  of 
1879  —  "a  masterpiece  of  masterpieces  "  — 
show  uncommon  ability,  which  gives  up  every- 
thing to  the  right  point  and  never  beyond  it. 
One  of  the  most  ravishing  designs  is  his  "  Girl 
on  a  Couch."  "  The  Model  Resting,"  quite  dif- 
ferent in  execution,  is  scarcely  less  captivating. 
But  much  of  his  work  seems  to  be  a  little  too 
elaborate,  too  overcrowded  with  line  work.  I 
do  not  particularly  admire  prints  like  his 
"  Southampton  Docks,"  "  Portrait  of  Drouet " 
or  "  The  Silent  Canal."  This  is  more  aston- 
ishing when  one  compares  them  with  the  frugal 
technique  of  his  paintings. 

A  rather  just,  though  somewhat  pedantic, 
criticism  came  from  the  pen  of  Hamerton  in 
1881: 

"  Amongst  living  men  Whistler  may  be 
cited  as  an  etcher  of  rare  quality  in  one  impor- 
tant respect,  the  management  of  lines,  but  his 


154 The  Whistler  Book 

etchings  owe  much  of  strange  charm  which 
they  possess  to  Chinese  disdain  of  tonal  values, 
and  to  wayward  caprice,  loving  it  here  and 
scorning  it  there,  which,  being  strictly  personal, 
can  only  be  of  use  as  an  example  in  one  sense, 
that  it  shows  how  valuable  in  art  is  genuine 
personal  feeling.  Whistler  is  an  admirably 
delicate  draughtsman  when  he  likes;  there  are 
passages  in  his  etchings  which  are  as  striking 
in  their  way  as  feats  of  execution,  as  the  most 
wonderful  passages  of  Meyrion." 

There  can  be  little  fault  found  with  this 
statement.  I  take  objection  only  to  the  "  way- 
ward caprice  "  and  the  "  Chinese  disdain."  I 
think  that  Whistler  learned  "  loving  detail 
here  and  scorning  it  there  "  only  in  his  later 
works.  It  came  out  strongly  in  compositions 
like  "  The  Balcony,"  "  Doorway,"  and  "  Pal- 
ace "  and  obtained  full  mastery  in  his  "  Dutch  " 
series,  above  all  the  fascinating  "  Amsterdam 
Canal "  piece,  when  the  lines  were  so  vague 
and  subtle  that  deep  biting  was  impossible  and 
a  few  impressions  would  efface  the  design.  As 
for  the  Chinese  disdain  of  tonal  values,  I  think 
it  is  Whistler's  particular  merit  that  he  grad- 
ually abolished  tonality  altogether,  and,  in  his 
later  work,  rarely  resorted  to  cross-hatching. 
He  laid  more  stress  upon  the  simplification  of 
line.  Etchings  can  produce  tonal  sensations, 


In  Quest  of  Line  Expression       155 

but  it  is  surely  not  the  main  object  to  strive  for. 
Whistler  followed  Haden's  doctrine  that  the 
line  ought  to  be  preserved  as  much  as  possible, 
and  made  the  most  of  it.  If  the  linear  expres- 
sion is  sacrificed  in  etching  there  is  no  execu- 
tive expression  left;  there  is  no  brushwork  to 
take  its  place;  the  etcher  is  working  with  a 
point  and  not  with  a  brush,  and  there  must 
be  primarily  point  expression,  that  is  line  ex- 
pression, or  none. 

Otto  H.  Bacher  has  written  a  few  analytical 
notes  of  Whistler's  line  work.  "  Where  it  re- 
quired accuracy  he  was  minute.  He  used  his 
needle  with  the  ease  of  a  draughtsman  with  a 
pen.  He  grouped  his  lines  in  an  easy,  playful 
way  that  was  fascinating.  They  would  often 
group  themselves  as  tones,  a  difficult  thing  to 
get  in  an  etching.  He  used  line  and  dot  in  all 
its  phases  with  certainty.  Sometimes  the  lines 
formed  a  dark  shadow  of  a  passage  through  a 
house,  with  figures  in  the  darkness  so  beauti- 
fully drawn  that  they  looked  far  away  from 
the  spectator.  These  shadows  which  so  beau- 
tifully defined  darkness  were  made  only  by 
many  lines  carefully  welded  together  and  made 
vague  as  the  shadows  became  faint  in  the  dis- 
tance or  contrasted  with  some  light  object. 
He  made  his  etched  lines  feel  like  air  against 
solids.  ...  If  he  etched  a  doorway,  he  played 


156  The  Whistler  Book 

with  the  lines  and  allowed  them  to  jumble 
themselves  into  beautiful  forms  and  contrasts, 
but  was  always  very  careful  of  the  general 
direction  they  should  run  as  a  whole."  Bacher 
saw  a  good  deal  of  Whistler  in  Venice,  per- 
haps more  so  than  any  one  else,  and  his  obser- 
vations on  Whistler's  etching  tools,  how  he 
ground  and  bit  his  plates,  are  extremely  inter- 
esting. "  In  grounding  plates  Whistler  used 
the  old-fashioned  ground,  composed  of  white 
wax,  bitumen,  pitch  and  rosin.  He  heated  the 
plates  with  an  ordinary  alcohol  flame,  holding 
the  plate  in  a  small  hand  vise.  The  silk  cov- 
ered dabber  that  spread  the  ground  over  the 
plate  was  fascinatingly  managed  by  Whis- 
tler. .  .  .  When  he  came  to  smoking  the  plate 
he  preferred  the  old  wax  taper  made  for  that 
purpose.  He  kept  his  two  etching  needles, 
very  sharp  ordinary  dentist  tools,  in  cork,  to 
preserve  their  fine  points.  Whistler  always 
had  his  stopping-out  varnish  with  him  in  a 
small  bottle,  applying  it  with  a  brush  in  a  most 
delicate  manner.  He  did  not  make  use  of  any 
mirror  but  preferred  the  old  negative  process. 
When  he  bit  a  plate  he  put  it  on  the  corner 
of  a  kitchen  table,  with  his  retouching  varnish, 
etching  needle,  feather  and  bottle  of  nitric 
acid,  at  hand,  ready  for  instant  use.  Taking 
a  feather,  he  would  place  it  at  the  mouth  of  the 


In  Quest  of  Line  Expression       157 

bottle  of  acid,  tipping  bottle  and  allowing  acid 
to  run  down  the  feather  and  drip  on  plate. 
He  moved  bottle  and  feather  always  in  the 
same  position  around  the  edges  until  plate  was 
covered,  —  would  use  feather  continually  to 
wash  acid  backward  and  forward  upon  the 
plate,  keeping  parts  equally  covered,  and  blow- 
ing away  air  bubbles." 

Frequently  Whistler  sketched  directly  on 
copper  plates.  He  carried  the  prepared  plates 
in  his  pockets  or  in  a  book  and  when  he 
found  a  motif  sketched  it  in  improvisatore 
fashion.  His  sketches  of  the  "  Annual  Re- 
view at  Spithead,"  in  1887,  show  his  uncom- 
mon facility  as  a  sketch  artist.  He  was  the 
champion  of  dry  point.  Already  during  the 
Leyland  period  he  selected  dry  point  as  a 
favourite  medium.  And  in  this,  to  my  notion, 
lies  the  strength  of  Whistler  as  an  etcher. 
"  Whistler  added,"  as  Joseph  Pennell  has  so 
beautifully  said,  "  a  new  scientific  method  to 
the  art  of  etching  —  that  of  painting  on  the 
copper  plate  with  the  needle." 

As  a  printer  of  his  own  plates  he  seems  to 
have  been  quite  an  expert.  He,  no  doubt,  al- 
lowed himself  great  latitude  and  experimented 
with  each  plate,  so  that  few  impressions  resem- 
ble each  other.  Although  he  had  abolished 
blacks  and  dark  tonal  passages  at  an  early 


158  The  Whistler  Book 

date,  he  frequently  painted  on  the  plate  with 
printer's  ink,  and  went  through  an  elaborate 
process  of  wiping.  Of  course  this  makes  the 
excellence  of  the  impression  uneven,  but  also 
makes  a  particularly  good  one  a  more  valu- 
able possession. 

The  intention  was  always  the  same.  From 
the  very  start  he  sought  for  the  same  arrange- 
ment of  lines  and  spaces,  the  same  effect  as  in 
his  Venetian  plates.  He  wanted  breadth  — 
not  breadth  of  line  itself,  but  breadth  of  ex- 
pression. After  all  it  was  a  growth  and  slow 
development.  He  became  simpler  and  sim- 
pler, and  well  nigh  reached  perfection  in  his 
Parisian  series  of  1892-93,  of  little  shops,  bou- 
levard scenes,  and  public  gardens,  and  in 
prints  like  "  The  Little  Mast,"  "  The  Riva," 
'  The  Barber,"  and  "  Zaandam  "  he  acquired 
his  wonderful  sense  for  right  workmanship 
on  a  small  scale.  Some  of  his  etchings  of 
fragments  of  architecture  have  never  been  sur- 
passed in  sketchy  treatment;  most  notice- 
able perhaps  in  the  exaggerated  simplicity  of 
the  "  London  Bridge  "  and  in  the  Holland 
series  of  the  nineties.  There  we  realize  that 
great  simplicity  of  motif  is  dependent  on  great 
simplicity  of  genius.  The  effects  are  so  spon- 
taneous and  subdued  that  their  value  might 
well  escape  common  observation.  The  extreme 


In  Quest  of  Line  Expression       159 

sensibility  is  a  matter  of  both  touch  and  vision. 
His  plates  look  as  if  the  rapidity  of  execution 
had  been  extraordinary,  and  yet  his  line,  as 
delicate  at  times  as  in  silver  point  drawings, 
is  not  exactly  what  we  could  call  nervous,  but 
of  remarkable  freedom  and  unerring  precision. 
It  is  piquant  and  sprightly,  subtle  and  alert. 

The  lines  can  almost  be  counted  in  some  of 
his  later  etchings.  He  had  learned  the  truth 
of  the  proverb  "  Wise  economy  is  everything." 
It  was  even  more  than  wise  economy.  It  was 
the  highest  expression  of  artistic  wisdom, 
which  had  almost  disappeared  since  the  sur- 
face decorations  of  Greek  vases,  in  which 
mood,  character  and  incident  were  reduced  to 
a  few  details,  strong  enough  to  incite  in  the 
imagination  of  the  beholder  all  that  was  elim- 
inated. 

Every  art  is  at  its  best  when  it  is  most  itself. 
Nobody  realized  this  more  than  Whistler,  who 
invariably  emphasized  this.  He  had  an  abso- 
lutely clear  idea  of  what  every  medium  could 
do.  In  his  larger  paintings  it  was  the  exploi- 
tation of  a  few  dull  colours,  of  a  silhouette  in 
space  combined  with  psychological  research ;  in 
his  nocturnes,  a  play  of  slightly  differentiated 
tones;  in  his  water-colours  a  mere  suggestion 
of  reality;  and  in  his  pastels  a  certain  joyous- 
ness  of  expression.  Pure  line,  caprice  of  detail, 


160  The  Whistler  Book 

distance  and  atmosphere,  he  reserved  for  his 
etchings;  and  a  subtle  expression  of  values  of 
"  moss-like  gradations "  for  his  lithographs. 
His  decision  may  not  always  appear  right  to 
others,  but  it  was  right  to  him.  How  carefully 
he  thought  out  these  technical  problems  is 
shown  in  his  "  Propositions,"  which  he  ad- 
dressed to  an  American  etching  club  that  had 
invited  him  to  take  part  in  a  competition  of 
large  plates.  He  wrote  the  following  series 
of  maxims  that  should  be  posted  on  the  wall 
of  every  studio : 

*  That  art  is   criminal  to  go  beyond  the 
means  used  in  its  exercise." 

'  That  the  space  to  be  covered  should  al- 
ways be  in  proper  relation  to  the  means  used 
for  covering  it." 

*  That  in  etching,  the  means  used,  or  instru- 
ments   employed,    being    the    finest    possible 
point,  the  space  to  be  covered  should  be  small 
in  proportion." 

'  That  all  attempts  to  overstep  the  limits 
insisted  upon  such  proportions  are  inartistic 
thoroughly,  and  tend  to  reveal  the  paucity  of 
the  means  used,  instead  of  concealing  the  same, 
as  required  by  art  in  its  refinement." 

'  That  the  huge  plate,  therefore,  is  an  of- 
fence—  its  undertaking  an  unbecoming  dis- 
play of  determination  and  ignorance  —  in  ac- 


WAPPING,    ON    THE    THAMES    (ETCHING). 


In  Quest  of  Line  Expression       161 

complishment  a  triumph  of  unthinking  ear- 
nestness and  uncontrolled  energy  —  both  en- 
dowments of  the  '  duffer.' ' 

"  That  the  custom  of  '  Remarque  '  emanates 
from  the  amateur  and  reflects  his  foolish  facil- 
ity beyond  the  border  of  his  picture,  thus  testi- 
fying to  his  unscientific  sense  of  its  dignity." 

"  That  it  is  odious." 

"  That,  indeed,  there  should  be  no  margin 
on  the  proof  to  receive  such  '  Remarque.' ' 

"  That  the  habit  of  the  margin,  again,  dates 
from  the  outsider,  and  continues  with  the  col- 
lector in  his  unreasoning  connoisseurship  — 
taking  curious  pleasure  in  the  quantity  of  the 
paper." 

;<  That  the  picture  ending  where  the  frame 
begins,  and  in  the  case  of  etchings,  the  white 
mount,  being  inevitably,  because  of  its  colour, 
the  frame,  the  picture  thus  extends  itself  irrel- 
evantly through  the  margin  of  the  mount." 

;*  That  wit  of  this  kind  would  leave  six  inches 
of  raw  canvas  between  the  painting  and  its 
gold  frame,  to  delight  the  purchaser  with  the 
quality  of  the  cloth." 

We  may  not  agree  with  his  conclusion  on 
the  margin  and  remarque.  The  latter,  no 
doubt,  was  introduced  by  the  artist  to  please 
the  purchaser.  It  is  therefore,  if  a  fault  at  all, 
that  of  the  artist  as  much  as  of  the  collector. 


162  The  Whistler  Book 

The  question  of  margin  is  an  individual  one. 
There  is  little  difference  between  a  mat  and 
a  margin,  and  the  Japanese  print  and  the 
framing  of  black  and  whites  in  general  have 
taught  us  the  utility  of  uneven  spacing  around 
the  picture.  The  remainder  of  the  argument  is 
excellent,  theoretically  as  well  as  aesthetically. 

Whistler's  composition,  excepting  the 
French  set,  was  strictly  impressionistic.  One 
merely  has  to  look  at  the  "  Cadogan  Pier," 
"The  Little  Pool,"  "Old  Hungerford 
Bridge,"  "Little  Wapping,"  "The  Velvet 
Dress,"  "  The  Dam  Wood,"  "  The  Long  La- 
goon," etc.,  to  come  to  this  conclusion. 

The  word  impressionism  is  rather  difficult 
to  explain.  It  is  on  the  tongue  of  everybody, 
and  yet  few  mean  exactly  the  same  thing  when 
they  make  use  of  it.  The  term  applied  for- 
merly to  every  art  expression  —  as  every  artist 
endeavoured  to  render  an  impression  —  has 
been  specialized  in  the  latter  half  of  the  last 
century.  It  has  become  the  nickname  of  a 
definite  number  of  painters,  who  have  adopted 
a  new  palette  (as  suggested  by  scientific  re- 
searches) and  introduced  a  new  method  of  lay- 
ing colours  on  the  canvas.  In  recent  years  the 
term  has  undergone  another  change  —  it  has 
become  a  general  claim  for  individuality  of 
subject  and  treatment. 


In  Quest  of  Line  Expression       163 

First  of  all,  let  us  determine  what  difference 
there  really  is  between  the  old  and  the  new 
style  of  impressionism.  The  artist  of  the  old 
school  received  an  impression  and  elaborated 
upon  it.  He  embellished  it  with  all  his  art 
was  capable  of,  and  the  original  impression 
underwent  all  sorts  of  changes.  It  was  merely 
the  first  inspiration  —  the  foundation  stone 
upon  which  the  whole  art  structure  was  erected. 
The  artist  of  the  new  school,  on  the  other  hand, 
endeavours  to  reproduce  the  impression  he  has 
received,  unchanged.  He  wants  the  impres- 
sion itself,  and  wants  to  see  it  on  his  canvas  as 
he  has  seen  and  felt  it,  hoping  that  his  inter- 
pretation may  call  forth  similar  aesthetic  pleas- 
ures in  others  as  the  original  impression  did  in 
him.  It  is  a  singular  coincidence,  indeed,  that 
while  the  men  of  the  lens  busy  themselves  with 
imitating  the  art  of  several  centuries  ago,  those 
of  the  brush  are  seeking  but  for  the  accuracy 
of  the  camera  plus  technical  individuality. 

The  impressionist  painters  adhere  to  a  style 
of  composition  that  apparently  ignores  all  pre- 
vious laws.  They  depict  life  in  scraps  and 
pigments,  as  it  appears  haphazard  in  the  finder 
or  on  the  ground  glass  of  the  camera.  The 
mechanism  of  the  camera  is  essentially  the  one 
medium  which  renders  every  interpretation 
impressionistic,  and  every  photographic  print, 


164  The  Whistler  Book 

whether  sharp  or  blurred,  is  really  an  impres- 
sion. 

How  did  the  impressionistic  painters  arrive 
at  this  new  style  of  composition?  Permit  me 
two  questions.  When  was  impressionism  in- 
troduced into  painting?  In  the  sixties.  When 
did  photography  come  into  practice?  In  the 
early  forties.  Do  you  see  what  I  am  driving 
at?  Photography  in  the  sixties  was  still  a 
comparative  novelty,  and  consequently  excited 
the  interest  of  pictorial  reformers  more  than 
it  does  to-day.  Its  influence  must  have  been 
very  strongly  felt,  and  the  more  I  have 
thought  of  the  nature  of  this  influence  the 
stronger  has  become  the  conviction  in  me  that 
the  impressionistic  style  of  composition  is 
largely  of  photographic  origin. 

Impressionistic  composition  is  unthinkable 
without  the  application  of  focus.  The  lens  of 
the  camera  taught  the  painter  the  importance 
of  a  single  object  in  space  to  realize  that  all 
subjects  cannot  be  seen  with  equal  clearness, 
and  that  it  is  necessary  to  concentrate  the  point 
of  interest  according  to  the  visual  abilities  of 
the  eye.  There  is  no  lens,  as  everybody  knows, 
which  renders  foreground  and  middle  distance 
equally  well.  If  three  objects,  for  instance, 
a  house,  a  tree  and  a  pool  of  water,  stand  at 
different  depths  before  the  camera,  the  photog- 


THE   SILENT   CANAL    (ETCHING). 


In  Quest  of  Line  Expression       165 

rapher  can,  at  will,  fix  either  the  house,  the 
tree  or  the  pool  of  water,  but  whatever  one  of 
these  three  objects  it  will  be,  the  other  two 
objects  will  appear  less  distinct. 

The  human  eye  could  have  told  the  painter 
the  same  story,  as  the  eye  naturally  and  in- 
stinctively rests  on  the  most  pleasing  part  of 
the  scene,  and  in  so  doing,  puts  out  of  focus 
more  or  less  all  the  other  parts.  It  is  a  curious 
fact  that  all  the  compositions  of  the  Old  Mas- 
ters were  out  of  focus.  True  enough  they 
swept  minor  light  and  colour  notations  into 
larger  ones,  but  there  seldom  was  any  definite 
indication  in  their  work  whether  an  object  was 
in  the  foreground  or  middle  distance.  This 
way  of  seeing  things  was,  no  doubt,  a  volun- 
tary one  —  they  had  a  different  idea  of  pic- 
torial interpretation.  In  their  pictures,  as  in 
nature,  we  continually  allow  our  attention  to 
flit  from  one  point  to  the  other  in  the  endeav- 
our to  grasp  the  whole,  and  the  result  is  a  series 
of  minor  impressions,  which  consciously  influ- 
ence the  final  and  total  impression  we  receive 
from  a  picture.  The  impressionist  is  satisfied 
with  giving  one  full  impression  that  stands  by 
itself,  and  it  was  the  broadcast  appearance  of 
the  photographic  images  in  the  sixties  that 
taught  him  to  see  and  represent  life  in  focal 
planes  and  divisions. 


166  The -Whistler  Book 

In  the  catalogue  of  Whistler's  etchings,  ar- 
ranged by  Frederick  Wedmore  in  1886,  we 
find  214  prints  enumerated  and  commented 
upon.  In  a  later  edition  the  number  had  in- 
creased to  268.  In  the  Catalogue  of  etchings 
of  James  McNeill  Whistler,  compiled  by  an 
amateur  and  published  by  Wunderlich  in  New 
York,  1902,  and  which  claims  to  contain  all 
known  etchings  by  the  artist,  the  number  is 
372. 

But  as  Whistler  was  working  on  copper  all 
his  life,  it  is  difficult  to  state  how  many  etch- 
ings he  really  made.  Joseph  Pennell,  who 
probably  knows  more  about  this  phase  of  art 
than  any  living  man,  makes  a  statement  as 
follows : 

"  I  know  little,  and  can  say  less,  of  the  state 
of  his  plates,  —  and  I  believe  himself  knew 
little  more  about  them,  —  how  many  were 
printed,  whether  they  exist  or  not,  or  what  has 
become  of  the  coppers.  All  I  do  know  is  that 
in  the  case  of  the  Thames  set,  long  after  Whis- 
tler or  Delatre  —  I  am  not  sure  which  —  had 
pulled  a  certain  number  of  proofs,  long  after 
the  plates  had  been  steeled  and  regularly  pub- 
lished, about  1871,  and  later  still,  after  a  Bond 
Street  dealer  had  been  selling  them  in  endless 
numbers  to  artists  for  a  few  shillings  each,  the 
idea  was  suggested  to  another  dealer  that  he 


In  Quest  of  Line  Expression       167 

should  purchase  the  copper  plates,  remove  the 
lead  facings  and,  if  they  were  in  condition, 
print  as  many  as  the  plates  would  stand,  or, 
if  they  were  not,  destroy  the  plates  and  sell 
them;  for  even  Whistler's  destroyed  copper 
plates  have  a  value.  The  experiment  was 
tried,  and  extraordinarily  fine  proofs  were  ob- 
tained. I  believe  collectors  resented  this  very 
much,  but  artists  rejoiced,  and  the  world  is 
richer  by  a  number  of  splendid  examples  of 
the  master." 

Whistler  gave  etching  a  new  impetus,  and 
a  new  significance  in  the  use  of  line;  even  as 
Mrs.  Schuyler  Van  Rensselaer  has  so  well  ex- 
pressed it:  "in  telling  use  of  a  line  he  has  no 
superior  among  the  modern  and  few  equals  in 
any  age." 

His  work  is  never  dull,  nor  cold,  nor  com- 
monplace. It  is  always  fascinating  and  capa- 
ble of  provoking  aesthetic  sentiments.  At 
times  it  is  of  "  slight  constitution,"  a  mere 
passing  fancy,  leaving  many  objects  in  the 
stage  of  mere  suggestion,  but  it  always  has  a 
finished  look.  And  finish,  as  he  understood  it, 
meant  the  carrying  on  of  a  technical  process 
until  it  had  fulfilled  to  the  utmost  its  mission 
and  explanation,  until  not  a  touch  more  was 
needed  to  make  clear  the  intention  which  the 
picture  embodied. 


CHAPTER    IX 

MOSS-LIKE   GRADATIONS 

GREY  is  the  colour  of  modern  life.  There 
is  some  truth  in  the  statement.  Modern  civ- 
ilization shuns  the  slashed  doublet  and  purple 
cloak.  Beauty  of  colour,  as  a  Titian  and  Vero- 
nese understood  it,  belongs  to  the  past.  The 
brilliancy  and  splendour  has  faded  out  of  it. 
The  modern  painter  uses  a  more  limited  scale 
of  colour,  and  the  tendency  is  toward  grey. 

Man's  garb  is  monotone,  and  the  life  in 
large  cities  devoid  of  the  rich  colour-bursts  of 
mediaeval  life.  The  contrasts  are  all  in  lower, 
paler  and  murkier  tones,  and  grey,  in  most 
instances,  furnishes  the  keynote  and  general 
harmonizer.  All  the  artists  who  have  a  fine 
feeling  for  the  arrangement  of  colours  have 
realized  that  harmonies  of  red,  green  and  vio- 
let, which  shone  so  resplendently  from  the 
warm  brown  tones  of  the  Old  Masters,  are  the 
dreams  of  another  age.  Even  the  impression- 
ists, by  the  very  character  of  their  technical 
innovations,  notably  the  abolition  of  browns, 

168 


Moss-like  Gradations  169 

the  struggle  for  a  higher  pitch  of  light  by  the 
interaction  of  purely  applied  colours  and  the 
exaggeration  of  the  transparency  of  shadows, 
are  pursuing  the  grey  phantom  of  modern  art. 
Their  ambition  is  no  longer  a  combination  of 
bright  colours,  as  in  Veronese's  "  Marriage  of 
Cana,"  but  a  tonality  of  dull  yellow  or  green, 
which  pervades  the  whole  surface  of  the  pic- 
tures. The  flowing  robes,  flowers  and  gold 
ornaments,  once  so  radiant  on  the  canvases  of 
the  Renaissance,  have  turned  as  pale  as  ashes. 

We  take  delight  to-day  in  subtler  grada- 
tions, in  semi  and  quarter  tones,  the  losing  of 
forms  in  mystic  shadows,  a  restless,  suggestive 
technique  of  mobile  touches,  nervous  sparkles, 
of  delicate  broken  tints  that  show  a  hundred 
differentiations.  And  this  over-sensitiveness 
and  fastidious  objection  to  strong  contrast, 
this  love  for  the  externals  of  technique,  raising 
brushwork  to  a  higher  pedestal  than  the  idea, 
has  much  to  do  with  the  exclusiveness  of  mod- 
ern painting  and  the  keener  appreciation  for 
monochrome. 

In  monochrome  representation  the  eye  has 
to  deal  only  with  one  mode  of  perception  — 
that  of  form.  The  perception  of  colour  de- 
pends upon  the  differentiation  of  the  effect 
upon  the  optical  nerve  fibres,  that  of  form  on 
the  numbers  and  relative  position  of  the  latter. 


170  The  Whistler  Book 

The  latter  mode  of  aesthetic  perception  is,  in 
our  times,  more  trained  and  developed,  as  it  is 
in  constant  usage.  Reproductive  processes, 
the  halftone  and  photography,  have  made 
monochrome  a  vehicle  of  expression  almost  as 
popular  as  the  spoken  word. 

To  former  ages  only  the  various  processes 
of  engraving  were  known.  With  the  excep- 
tion of  etching  and  wood  engraving,  they  were 
applied  largely  to  popularize  the  products  of 
painters,  and  the  independent  etchers  and 
block-cutters  generally  adhered  to  a  severe 
and  classical  style  of  art.  It  was  the  nine- 
teenth century  with  its  principle  of  universal 
education,  newspapers,  books  and  manifold 
publications,  that  brought  about  the  great 
change. 

Texture  constitutes  to  most  collectors  the 
principal  charm  of  the  graphic  arts.  It  is  a 
rare  and  fantastic  valuation,  an  appreciation 
of  preciosity,  this  occupying  oneself  with  the 
fascination  of  the  minor  arts.  Art  would  be 
too  austere  if  it  were  not  for  the  makers  of 
etchings  and  lithographs,  of  pastels  and  water- 
colours. 

Photography,  the  latest  arrival  in  the  ranks 
of  the  graphic  arts,  has  the  widest  range  of 
expression,  and  its  technique  is  interesting  as 
far  as  it  can  express  mechanically  and  with 


Moss -like  Gradations  171 

comparative  ease  gradations  of  tone  that  with- 
out visible  touches,  marks,  strokes  or  lines 
melt  imperceptibly  into  each  other.  But  this 
smoothness  of  texture  will  also  be  its  most 
formidable  drawback.  There  is  no  chance  for 
manual  expression  without  destroying  the 
charm  of  photographic  texture.  Chemistry  is 
the  only  legitimate  means  to  accomplish  it. 

Copper  and  steel  engravings  lack  that  free- 
dom of  expression,  and  are  restricted  largely 
to  reproductive  purposes.  Carried  out  by 
cross-hatching,  they  are  limited  by  the  black 
of  the  ink  and  the  white  of  the  paper,  and  the 
precise  character  of  the  line  work.  Modern 
reproductive  wood  engraving,  notably  of  the 
American  school,  is  the  only  medium  which 
has  conquered  the  subtleties  of  tone. 

The  scale  in  monochrome  painting  in  colour 
is  so  limited  that  few  artists  apply  it.  India 
ink  and  sepia,  however,  are  much  in  favour, 
and  if  handled  by  an  artist,  fulfil  the  require- 
ments of  painting.  The  only  short-comings 
are  a  certain  transparency  in  the  middle  tints 
and  an  artificial  look  in  the  texture. 

Charcoal  and  chalk  have  a  great  similarity, 
and  also  lend  themselves  to  elaborate  compo- 
sition, although  the  more  delicate  and  lighter 
greys  are  frequently  muddy.  Pen  and  ink 
can  merely  give  an  impression  of  line,  and 


172  The  Whistler  Book 

next  to  etching  it  is  the  best  medium  for  sketch- 
ing, only  a  less  pliable  one,  which  is  largely 
due  to  the  unelasticity  of  the  steel  pen;  all 
subtler  gradations  are  left  out,  as  the  brightest 
tints  are  lost  in  the  white  and  the  darkest  in 
the  black. 

In  lead  pencil  sketches  the  lowest  tones  are 
grey  as  compared  with  black,  and  consequently 
can  not  produce  any  decided  depth.  Crayon 
lithography  is  capable  of  producing  beautiful 
soft  greys.  As  the  gradations  from  one  tint  to 
another  are  not  continuous,  the  texture,  con- 
sisting of  innumerable  minute  dots,  does  not 
permit  clear  uninterrupted  line  work  and  even 
flow  of  tone.  It  does  not  lend  itself  particu- 
larly well  to  faithful  copying  from  nature. 
The  very  character  of  its  granulated  line  and 
surface  suggests  a  sketchy  and  fragmentary 
treatment.  Whistler,  who,  with  Fantin-La- 
tour,  shares  the  honour  of  the  happy  revival 
of  artistic  lithography,  readily  realized  this. 
He  laid  special  stress  upon  the  texture;  its 
detached  shapes  creep  over  the  paper  like  grey 
moss  over  a  stone.  They  are  all  carried  out 
in  grey  monotonous  middle  tints  but  marvel- 
lously delicate  and  subtle  in  values.  Super- 
ficial but  delicious  in  quality,  his  lithographic 
croquis  impress  us  like  the  laborious  trifles 
and  harmonious  bagatelles  of  a  Herrick. 


Moss-like  Gradations  173 

Theodore  Duret  tells  us  that  Whistler 
made  his  first  series  of  six  lithographs  during 
the  years  1877-78  (republished  in  1887  by 
Boussod  Valadon  in  Paris) .  They  were  drawn 
directly  on  stone,  contrary  to  his  later  method, 
when  he  used  transfer  paper  almost  exclu- 
sively. They  were  rather  large  in  size,  and 
resembled  his  painted  nocturnes  in  general 
treatment.  This  is  particularly  the  case  with 
his  "  View  on  the  Thames,"  the  most  beautiful 
print  of  the  series.  I  do  not  believe  that  these 
representations  were  of  particular  importance, 
as  they  contradict  his  own  theory.  What  can 
be  and  has  been  perfectly  expressed  in  one 
medium,  can  not  reach  equal  perfection  in  an- 
other medium.  It  was  really  nothing  but  a 
translation  of  a  painted  nocturne  into  black 
and  white.  The  essential  charm  of  a  Whistler 
nocturne  consists  of  colour.  Black  and  white 
can  convey  only  a  vague  idea  of  vibrancy. 

When  Whistler  took  up  lithographing  for 
the  second  time  in  1885-86,  he  had  become 
thoroughly  familiar  with  his  medium.  He  no 
longer  worked  on  the  stone,  and  abandoned 
all  elaborate  finished  compositions.  His 
motifs  are  sketchy  little  figure  studies,  street 
scenes,  portraits  and  occasionally  a  nude  or 
semi-nude  like  his  "  Dancing  Girl "  in  flut- 
tering drapery.  The  printing  he  entrusted 


174  The  Whistler  Book 

to  a  lithograph  printer  in  London,  Thomas 
Way  by  name,  who  was  somewhat  of  an 
artist  himself  and  consequently  better 
equipped  than  the  ordinary  pressman  to  do 
justice  to  Whistler's  vague  fancies.  Fre- 
quently Whistler  took  a  hand  in  the  printing, 
or  at  least  made  corrections.  Printer  Way 
told  Mr.  Wedmore,  with  reference  to  the 
sometimes  disputed  matter  of  the  transfer 
paper,  "  that  even  when  the  artist  drew  on  that 
in  the  first  instance,  and  saw  in  proofs  things 
that  were  lacking  or  things  that  were  exag- 
gerated, he  would  make  his  correction  upon  the 
stone  itself,  and  so,  of  certain  of  his  litho- 
graphs—  his  later  ones  especially  —  he  pro- 
duced different '  states/  though  it  was  not  easy 
to  expressly  define  them,  and  though  these  dif- 
ferences were,  of  course,  but  the  exceptions, 
and  whereas  very  often,  though  of  course  not 
always  in  etchings  —  Whistler's  or  other 
peoples'  —  the  earlier  state  is  finer  than  the 
later;  in  these  lithographs,  generally  speak- 
ing, the  later  state  is  finer  than  the  earlier." 
Whistler's  lithographs  can  easily  be  clas- 
sified according  to  the  subjects  they  represent. 
During  the  years  Whistler  lived  in  Paris  he 
depicted  views  and  scenes  of  the  city  like  the 
"Pantheon,"  "The  Grand  Gallery  of  the 
Louvre,"  "  The  Luxembourg  Gardens  "  and 


Boston  Museum  of  Fine  Arts 

LITTLE   HOSE    OP   LYME   REGIS. 


Moss-like  Gradations  175 

interesting  types  like  "  La  belle  New  York- 
aise  "  and  "  La  belle  Dame  Paresseuse."  One 
print,  "  Les  Confidences  dans  le  Jardin,"  de- 
picts two  gossiping  women  in  the  garden  of 
his  house  in  the  rue  du  Bac. 

His  London  subjects  are  equally  numerous. 
In  1895,  when  he  painted  "  The  Master 
Smith  "  and  the  "  Little  Rose  of  Lyme  Regis," 
while  at  a  watering  place  in  Dorsetshire  he 
made  several  sketches  of  the  picturesque 
streets  of  the  old  town.  Of  particular  charm 
are  his  "Early  Morning"  (a  view  of  the 
Thames  from  his  Chelsea  window)  and  "  The 
Locksmith  of  the  Dragon  Square."  In  1886, 
during  an  illness  of  his  wife,  he  lived  in  the 
Surrey  Hotel  and  executed  a  number  of  pano- 
ramic views  of  the  Strand,  the  Thames  with 
its  river  traffic,  the  quays,  St.  Paul's  Cathe- 
dral and  bird-eye  views  of  London  streets. 

All  these  designs  are  beautifully  enveloped 
in  a  misty  atmosphere.  The  paper  is  used  as 
a  value  as  important  as  the  grey  lines  of  the 
crayon,  and  the  forms  are  softened  as  if  broken 
by  light  and  generally  massed  in  an  unsym- 
metrical  fashion. 

Some  of  the  portrait  sketches  are  superb, 
in  particular  that  of  Stephane  Mallarme,  who 
was  Whistler's  life-long  friend  and  one  of 
his  staunchest  supporters.  It  was  largely  due 


176  The  Whistler  Book 

to  Mallarme  that  the  "  Portrait  of  the  Ar- 
tist's Mother  "  found  a  home  in  the  Luxem- 
bourg. He  also  translated  the  "  Ten  O'clock  " 
into  French.  Whistler's  sketch  of  the  poet 
appeared  on  the  front  of  the  Parisian  edition 
of  "  Vers  et  Prose  "  (1893) .  It  is  apparently 
hurriedly  dashed  off,  but  the  result  of  many 
careful  studies  and  experiments.  It  is  a  mere 
fragment,  negligent,  disdainful;  but  how 
knowingly  made,  and  how  characteristic  of 
the  poet's  personality!  Despite  its  vagueness 
it  is  a  likeness,  and  preferable,  to  me  at  least, 
who  was  fortunate  to  know  Mallarme  in  the 
early  eighties,  to  most  portraits  made  of  him. 

Whistler  never  surpassed  this  particular 
effort,  although  his  portraits  of  Joseph  Pen- 
nell,  Mrs.  Pennell,  Walter  Sickert,  W.  E. 
Henley  and  his  wife,  Miss  Philip  and  Comte 
Montesquieu  are  excellent  character  studies. 
Way  published  in  1896  a  catalogue  of  130 
lithographs.  Later  additions  probably  in- 
crease the  number  to  150.  The  London  Fine 
Arts  Society  held  in  1895  a  special  sale  of 
75  lithographs.  The  "  Grolier  Club  "  of  New 
York  in  1900  held  an  exhibition  of  106  prints. 

His  nudes  are  charming  little  inventions  in 
pose  and  gesture  with  considerable  knowledge 
of  the  human  figure.  In  the  Society  exhibi- 
tion of  1885  he  exhibited  a  nude  entitled 


STUDY  OP  NUDE  FIGURE  (  CHALK  DRAWING). 


Moss-like  Gradations  177 

"  Caprice."  A.R.  A.  Horsley  took  exception 
to  it,  and  in  a  lecture  before  a  Church  Con- 
gress, after  indulging  in  most  curious,  pedan- 
tic and  mediaeval  arguments,  ended  with  the 
following  tirade : 

"  Is  not  clothedness  a  distinct  type  and  fea- 
ture of  our  Christian  faith?  All  art  repre- 
sentations of  nakedness  are  out  of  harmony 
with  it." 

Whistler,  ever  ready  to  take  up  the  cudgel, 
avenged  himself  by  writing  under  the  picture : 
"Horsley  soit  qui  mal  y  pense,"  and  leaving 
it  there  during  the  entire  exhibition. 

Strange,  that  Whistler  never  attempted  to 
paint  a  large  nude  in  oil.  He,  no  doubt,  had 
a  reason  for  this  omission,  although  it  is 
nowhere  recorded.  Perhaps  he  agreed  on  the 
point  with  Ruskin  that  a  realistic  nude  had  no 
place  in  modern  life,  not  for  any  moral  reason 
but  merely  that  the  human  body  was  too  de- 
fective to  allow  the  highest  aesthetic  gratifica- 
tion. A  'figure  in  modern  garb  is  a  part  of 
modern  life,  a  nude  is  an  alien  in  space  with- 
out any  special  significance.  This  should  have 
appealed  to  Whistler;  perhaps  he  strove  hard 
to  realize  it  but  never  succeeded  in  doing  so. 
His  lithographs  and  pastels  of  nudes  seem 
largely  experimental.  They  never  go  beyond 
the  sketch  and  vaguely  remind  one  of  Tana- 


178  The  Whistler  Book 

gra  figures.  ;'  The  Model  Resting,"  and 
"  The  Little  Nude  Reading,"  a  profile  view  of 
a  young  girl  sitting  in  bed  holding  with  both 
hands  a  book,  are  two  of  the  best  known. 

Whistler  also  made  a  few  attempts  in  col- 
oured lithography,  as  for  instance,  "  La  Mai- 
son  Jaune."  But  it  is  hardly  coloured  lithog- 
raphy, it  is  merely  a  black  and  white  design 
with  a  few  touches  of  colour,  as  expressed  in 
"  A  Lannion  "  or  the  "  Maison  Rouge  a  Paim- 
pol,"  the  result  of  an  excursion  to  Brittany. 
Perhaps  the  most  exquisite  and  delicate  of  his 
efforts  are  these  slight  delicate  renderings  of 
female  forms.  When  he  adds  a  little  colour 
it  is  always  done  with  rare  preciosity,  the 
"  un-finish "  always  being  masterly.  And 
there  is  such  a  thing  as  masterly  "  un-finish  " 
always  being  just  at  the  right  spot  as  there  is 
merit  in  the  masterly  inactivity  of  a  Russian 
general  opposing  an  invading  army.  The 
very  essence  of  Whistler's  art  is  to  be  seen  in 
these  coloured  drawings. 

Of  peculiar  charm  are  Whistler's  pastels. 
The  majority,  some  fifty  which  he  exhibited  in 
the  London  Fine  Arts  Society  in  1880,  depict 
Venetian  scenes.  They  were  catalogued  as 
"  harmonies  in  blue  and  browns,  in  opal  and 
turquoise,  etc."  They  show  a  rare  elegance  of 
design  and  a  peculiar  suavity  of  colour.  They 


Owned  by  Th.  R.  Way 


PASTEL    STUDY. 


Moss-like  Gradations  179 

are  the  last  remnants  of  his  early  period  of 
vivid  colouring,  and  are  highly  valued.  They 
represent  canals  with  draped  gondolas,  views 
from  the  lagoons  with  ships  at  anchor,  arch- 
ways, and  white  churches,  the  cemetery  with 
green  trees,  lights  gleaming  on  the  distant 
shore  and  reflections  in  the  water.  His  figures 
in  pastels  are  mostly  young  girls,  semi-nude 
or  in  quaintly  coloured  robes,  frequently  in 
pink  and  red  against  vague  backgrounds. 
Whistler's  virtuosity  in  these  sketches  and  pic- 
torial fragments  is  entirely  different  from  the 
so-called  impressionist's  work.  It  is  primarily 
full  of  imagination,  of  a  high  mental  tone  and 
dignity.  Whistler  has  shown  how  noble  an 
aspect  can  be  given  to  the  expression  of  an 
extremist,  for  he  also  was  an  extremist.  He 
perfectly  realized  that  aggressive  sketchiness 
can  never  be  monumental,  that  sketches  are 
merely  gymnastic  exercises  that  lend  health 
and  strength  to  a  painter's  technique,  although 
they  remain  to  the  end  merely  exercises.  At 
the  same  time,  if  rightly  handled,  they  express 
certain  aesthetic  aspects  of  life  better  than  more 
elaborate  efforts.  He  knew  what  a  sketch 
could  and  could  not  convey,  and  the  wonderful 
freshness  and  spontaneity  which  they  exhibit 
are  witness  alike  to  the  clear  crispness  of  his 
perception  and  to  his  sympathetic  handling. 


180  The  Whistler  Book 

The  only  medium  in  which  Whistler  ex- 
pressed himself  without  adding  a  decided  note 
to  individuality  of  execution,  are  his  water 
colours.  They  have  an  easy  flow,  but  the  areas 
of  surface  seem  too  large  for  the  slight  treat- 
ment. The  meaning  of  the  motifs  seems  to 
be  dissipated.  They  represent  mostly  street 
scenes,  country  views,  the  seashore  and 
marines,  charmingly  translucent,  but  without 
suggesting  a  style,  that  developed  the  medium 
according  to  its  resources.  But  whatever 
Whistler  did  was  interesting.  It  is  difficult 
to  imagine  a  more  delightful  pastime  than  to 
look  over  a  collection  of  his  pastels,  lithographs 
and  aquarelles.  They  are  carried  out  lightly, 
but  with  true  touches  of  genius  and  joyous 
mystifying  excursions  into  the  dreamland  of 
pictorial  fancy,  quite  in  the  Whistlerian  man- 
ner. No  one,  I  think,  quite  so  well  fulfilled 
Whistler's  own  theory  that  an  artist  should 
see  nature  through  the  spiritual  eye  of  an  in- 
dividual. Few  painters  were  such  frank  inter- 
preters of  their  own  intimate  moods. 

Aside  of  all  these  works  on  record  Whistler 
has  scattered  through  the  world  countless 
scraps  of  drawings,  themselves  amply  sufficient 
to  make  an  artist's  reputation.  What  a 
precious  document  we  should  have  if  their 
author  were  able  to-day  to  give  a  list,  as  cer- 


Moss-like  Gradations  isi 

tain  artists  have  done,  a  kind  of  Liber  veri- 
tatis  of  all  the  studies  he  has  made  and  dis- 
seminated! But  he  has  flung  them  far  and 
wide,  as  the  plum  tree  scatters  its  blossoms  in 
approaching  spring. 


CHAPTER   X 

WHISTLER'S  ICONOCLASM 

IT  would  be  difficult  to  find  in  the  whole 
history  of  art  writing  another  case  of  a 
pamphleteer  who  became  as  famous  with  a 
few  manuscripts  as  Whistler.  Both  the 
"  Gentle  Art  of  Making  Enemies,"  edited  by 
Sheridan  Ford,  and  published  in  1890  by 
William  Heineman,  London;  Frederick 
Stokes  &  Co.,  New  York;  and  Delabrosse  & 
Co.,  all  in  the  same  year,  and  "  The  Ten 
O'clock,"  delivered  in  London,  February, 
1885;  in  Cambridge,  March  24th;  and  Ox- 
ford, April  30th  of  the  following  year,  and 
published  in  1888,  created  a  sensation.  They 
scarcely  embrace  five  thousand  words  of  read- 
ing matter. 

Whistler's  diction  was  exceedingly  terse  and 
poignant  and  he  managed  to  say,  or  at  least 
to  suggest  to  intelligent  minds,  in  a  few  words 
a  phrase  or  maxim,  which  would  exact  from 
more  sluggish  pens  page  after  page  of  argu- 
ment. Of  course,  his  letters  and  replies  to 

182 


Owned  by  Howard  Mansfield 

ARCHWAY,    VENICE    (PASTEL). 


Whistler's  Iconoclasm  183 

critics  were  written  largely  for  effect.  A  well 
turned  phrase  was  to  him  the  ideal  of  diction 
and  no  doubt  he  rewrote  every  sentence  a  dozen 
times  before  he  allowed  it  to  go  out  to  the 
public.  It  was  to  him  a  part  —  and  a  most 
serious  part  —  of  his  profession.  And  when- 
ever he  did  not  deal  with  personalities  and 
approached  the  technical  principle  on  which  his 
practice  as  artist  was  based,  as  in  his  "  propo- 
sitions," his  observations  and  theories  became 
lucid  and  convincing.  Read  his  reply  to  the 
criticism  which  was  caused  by  the  withdrawal 
of  two  members  from  the  Society  of  the 
•British  Artists,  who  left  voluntarily  knowing 
that  changes  of  policy  were  inevitable  under 
the  presidency  of  Whistler.  The  attack  in  the 
London  Daily  News  ended  as  follows: 

"  It  will  be  for  the  patrons  of  the  Suffolk- 
street  Gallery  to  decide  whether  the  more  than 
half -uncovered  walls  which  will  be  offered  to 
their  view  next  week  are  more  interesting  than 
the  work  of  many  artists  of  more  than  average 
merit  which  will  be  conspicuous  by  its  absence, 
owing  to  the  selfish  policy  inaugurated. 

(Signed)    A  BRITISH  ABTIST." 

Whistler  answered : 

"  Far  from  me  to  propose  to  penetrate  the 


184  The  Whistler  Book 

motives  of  such  withdrawal,  but  what  I  do 
deny  was  that  it  could  possibly  be  caused  —  as 
its  strangely  late  announcement  seemed 
sweetly  to  insinuate  —  by  the  strong  deter- 
mination to  tolerate  no  longer  the  mediocre 
work  that  had  hitherto  habitually  swarmed  the 
walls  of  the  Suffolk-street. 

'*  This  is  a  plain  question  of  date,  and  I 
pointed  out  that  these  two  gentlemen  left  the 
Society  six  months  ago  —  long  before  the 
supervising  committee  were  called  upon  to  act 
at  all,  or  make  any  demonstration  whatever. 
Your  correspondent  regrets  that  I  do  not  '  go 
further,'  and  straightway  goes  further  him- 
self, and  scarcely  fares  better,  when,  with  a 
quaintness  of  naivete  rare  at  this  moment,  he 
proposes  that  '  it  will  be  for  the  patrons  of  the 
gallery  to  decide  whether  the  more  than  half- 
covered  walls  are  more  interesting  than  the 
works  of  many  artists  of  more  than  the  average 
merit.'  Now  it  will  be  for  the  patrons  to  de- 
cide absolutely  nothing.  It  is,  and  will  al- 
ways be,  for  the  gentlemen  of  the  hanging 
committee  alone,  duly  chosen,  to  decide 
whether  empty  space  be  preferable  to  poor 
pictures  —  whether,  in  short,  it  be  their  duty  to 
cover  walls,  merely  that  walls  may  be  cov- 
ered—  no  matter  with  what  quality  of  work. 

"  Indeed  the  period  of  the  patron  has  utterly 


Whistler's  Iconoclasm  185 

passed  away,  and  the  painter  takes  his  place  - 
to  point  out  what  he  knows  to  be  consistent 
with  the  demands  of  his  art  —  without  defer- 
ence to  patrons  or  prejudice  to  party.  Be- 
yond this,  whether  the  '  policy  of  Mr.  Whistler 
and  his  following  '  be  '  selfish  or  no,'  matters 
but  little;  but  if  the  policy  of  your  corre- 
spondent's '  following  '  find  itself  among  the 
ruthlessly  rejected,  his  letter  is  more  readily 
explained." 

This  is  some  logic  and  delicious  sarcasm. 
It  is  to  the  point  and  there  is  nothing  unpleas- 
ant in  the  entire  argument.  His  art  challenges 
and  explanations  always  impress  us  in  that 
manner. 

That  is  why  his  art  lecture,  if  it  may  be 
passed  as  such  —  it  is  exceedingly  short  as  art 
lectures  go  —  is  so  much  more  valuable  as  a 
literary  document  than  his  collected  letters, 
though  the  latter  are  more  amusing,  and  give 
perhaps  a  better  insight  into  the  author's  per- 
sonality. It  is  a  concise  resume  of  modern  art, 
not  only  the  exploitation  of  one  man's  ideas, 
but  rather  a  set  of  theories  which  reflect  the 
thoughts  of  most  of  the  younger  and  modern 
painters.  It  is  written  in  a  subjective  way  but 
the  impression  derived  therefrom  is  objective. 
Whistler  was  one  of  the  few  great  representa- 


186  The  Whistler  Book 

tives  of  modern  art,  and  if  such  a  man  has  the 
gift  to  express  his  idea  in  a  clear  manner,  a 
gift  which  most  painters  lack,  he  will  neces- 
sarily reflect  the  aspirations  of  his  contempo- 
raries. As  a  piece  of  literature  aside  from  the 
idea  conveyed  in  it,  I  would  compare  it  to 
Fromentin's  "  Le  Desert,"  a  charming  treatise 
on  colour  and  atmosphere,  but  as  soon  as  it 
treats  the  more  serious  problems  of  art  it  be- 
comes of  deeper  significance,  and  I,  for  my 
part,  would  not  hesitate  to  mention  it  in  the 
same  breath  with  Lessing's  "  Laakoon."  It 
has  neither  the  dignity  nor  logical  sequence  of 
the  Hamburgh  philosopher,  but  the  statements 
in  it  are  more  important,  or  at  least,  more  sig- 
nificant to  us  than  any  theories  of  the  German 
critic.  I  do  not  know  of  any  book  which  is 
more  reflective  of  modern  art  than  Whistler's 
"  Ten  O'Clock."  It  filled  a  big  gap,  and  its 
influence  on  the  reasoning  power  (which,  true 
enough,  is  small  in  many  instances)  of  the 
modern  painter  has  been  far-reaching. 

Whistler's  literary  activity  began  about 
1863,  when  he  lived  in  Linsey  Row,  London. 
His  pictures  had  been  rejected  from  several 
leading  London  and  Paris  exhibitions,  and, 
finally,  when  he  succeeded  in  exhibiting  his 
"Woman  in  White"  at  the  Berner  Street 
Galleries,  during  the  spring  months  of  1862 


Owned  by  Howard  Mansfield 

THE    JAPANESE    DRESS    (PASTEL). 


Whistler's  Iconoclasm  187 

(before  sending  it  to  Paris),  it  called  forth  a 
storm  of  derision  and  ridicule.  His  answer  to 
a  most  silly  criticism  in  the  "  Athenaeum,"  that 
the  face  of  his  "  Woman  in  White  "  was  well 
done,  but  that  it  was  not  that  of  Mr.  Wilkie 
Collins'  heroine  was  his  first  attempt  at  repu- 
diation. It  was  as  follows : 

"  May  I  beg  to  correct  an  erroneous  im- 
pression likely  to  be  confirmed  by  a  paragraph 
in  your  last  number?  The  Berner  Street  Gal- 
leries have,  without  my  sanction,  called  my 
picture  the  *  Woman  in  White.'  I  had  no 
intentions  whatsoever  of  illustrating  Mr. 
Wilkie  Collins'  novel;  it  so  happens,  indeed, 
that  I  have  never  read  it.  My  painting  simply 
represents  a  girl  in  white  standing  in  front  of 
a  white  curtain.  I  am, 

JAMES  WHISTLER." 

The  reply,  in  my  mind,  is  rather  common- 
place. It  has,  as  yet,  nothing  of  Whistler's 
fine  sarcasm  and  finished  style.  Almost  any- 
body could  have  written  it.  The  attitude  of 
a  critic  to  accept  something  as  a  starting  point, 
and  then  to  criticize  a  picture  from  that  point, 
is  such  a  commonplace  occurrence  that  it  was 
hardly  worth  answering. 

Also  his  second  literary  attempt,  more  than 


188  The  Whistler  Book 

ten  years  later,  when  he  objected  to  having 
one  of  his  pictures  called  "  The  Yacht  Race: 
A  symphony  in  B  sharp,"  had  little  merit 
except  that  of  indignation. 

Whistler  was  an  iconoclast,  as  fanatic  as 
any,  when  problems  of  art  were  in  question, 
but  his  image-breaking  was  always  indirect, 
"  inverted  "  as  it  were ;  he  defended  his  position 
by  asserting  his  own  beliefs.  He,  no  doubt, 
was  prompted  by  his  own  deep-rooted  convic- 
tions, but  the  stimulant  of  his  literary  activity 
was  never  based  on  didacticism:  to  bring  out 
an  idea  because  it  was  a  great  truth  and  ought 
to  be  brought  out.  The  stimulant  for  his  ut- 
terances was  always  personal  anger,  irritation 
and  wrath.  He  fought  for  himself  and  his 
art,  but  not  for  others.  He  was  one  of  the 
greatest  egotists  that  ever  lived.  Whenever 
he  felt  hurt  at  some  injustice  and  stupidity  he 
had  to  set  it  aright,  no  matter  at  what  cost, 
to  his  own  satisfaction. 

It  was  not  before  he  was  forty-four  that  he 
took  up  letter  writing  seriously.  In  one  of  his 
earliest  answers  he  is  seen  at  his  best;  it  was 
written  as  early  as  1867  but  never  published 
until  1887,  when  it  appeared  in  the  "  Art  Jour- 
nal." Somebody  had  found  fault  with  him 
calling  one  of  his  pictures  "  A  Symphony  in 
White,"  because  one  of  the  girls  had  reddish 


Whistler's  Iconoclasm  189 

hair;  and  a  yellow  dress,  a  blue  ribbon  and  a 
blue  fan  had  been  introduced  into  a  white 
tonality.  He  replied  in  his  vigorous  fashion: 

"  Can  anything  be  more  amazing  than  the 
stultified  prattle  of  this  poor  person?  Not 
precisely  a  symphony  in  white  .  .  .  for  there 
is  a  yellowish  dress  .  .  .  brown  hair  .  .  .  and 
of  course  there  is  the  flesh  colour  of  the  com- 
plexions. Bon  Dieu!  Did  this  creature  ex- 
pect white  hair  and  chalked  faces?  And  does 
he  then  in  his  astounding  wisdom  believe  that 
a  symphony  in  F  contains  no  other  note,  but  a 
continued  repetition  of  F,  F,  F,  F,  F?  .  .  . 
Fool!  JAMES  WHISTLER." 

In  this  letter  he  took  the  right  attitude,  that 
of  the  fighter,  who,  with  a  few  penstrokes, 
annihilated  the  foolishness  of  his  opponents. 
If  all  his  feuds- had  been  of  this  character, 
no  objection  would  have  been  raised  to  them. 
Alas,  he  did  things,  frequently,  merely  to  pose 
as  a  wit,  to  say  something  that  would  make 
London  society  laugh,  caring  little  in  how 
malicious  and  vituperative  a  manner  he  would 
couch  his  words.  Even  when  he  was  wrong 
and  knew  that  he  was  wrong  he  would  fight, 
as  in  the  Cafe  Orientate  incident.  A  corre- 
spondent of  the  "  World  "  attacked  the  title, 


190  The  Whistler  Book 

stating  that  it  had  an  e  too  many  for  French, 
and  an  /  too  few  for  Italian.  Whistler  does 
not  attempt  to  justify  his  orthographical  error, 
but,  by  telling  an  anecdote,  endeavours  to  ridi- 
cule all  criticism  which  pretends  to  such  ac- 
curacy. It  is  cleverly  told,  but  after  all  it  is 
silly. 

Nearly  all  his  friends,  sooner  or  later,  were 
forced  into  crossing  swords  with  him.  The  list 
is  a  long  one  and  embraces  many  well-known 
names.  He  fought  with  his  brother-in-law, 
F.  Seymour  Haden,  because  he  had  admired 
Frank  Duveneck's  etchings  and  mistaken  them 
for  Whistler's.  He  advised  Harry  Quilter,  an 
art  writer,  "  his  bitterest  enemy,"  to  employ  his 
sense  of  smell  in  preference  to  his  eyesight ;  he 
calls  the  art  critic  P.  G.  Hamerton,  "a  cer- 
tain Mr.  Hamerton."  He  wrangled  with  Sir 
William  Eden  and  even  his  friend  Leyland 
about  the  price  for  ordered  pictures,  in  each 
case  making  the  whole  transaction  public;  he 
attacked  Tom  Taylor  and  F.  Wedmore  for 
misquotations  in  their  writings  (he  who  had 
been  guilty  of  the  same  thing  himself),  he 
quarrelled  with  the  Academy  when  they  re- 
painted an  old  sign  of  his,  "  the  famous  Lion 
and  Butterfly  wrangle ; "  and  wrote  most  in- 
sulting letters  to  Wyke  Bayliss,  who  has  suc- 
ceeded him  in  the  presidency.  He  withdrew 


Whistler's  Iconoclasm  191 

all  his  pictures  from  the  Paris  Exposition, 
because  the  American  colonel,  C.  R.  Haw- 
kins, had  refused  a  few  of  his  etchings  in  a 
rather  impolite  manner.  The  real  reason  was 
lack  of  space,  and  one  could  hardly  expect 
from  an  American  colonel  the  manners  of  a 
Chesterfield.  Surely,  Whistler  did  not  possess 
them  himself.  He,  at  all  times,  practised  more 
"  manner "  than  manners,  his  language  had 
at  times  an  irritating  touch  of  rudeness  and 
coarseness.  The  feuds  were  endless.  He  con- 
tinually baited  his  fellow  artists.  He  called 
the  pre-Raphaelites  "  What  a  damn  crew." 
Legros,  Val  Prinsep,  W.  P.  Frith,  Sir  Fred- 
erick Leighton  and  Dante  Gabriel  Rossetti, 
were  at  one  time  or  another  recipients.  Every- 
body who  came  in  contact  with  him,  William 
M.  Chase,  "  the  masher  of  the  Avenues,"  Theo- 
dore Child,  who  had  to  bear  the  brunt  of  a  pun 
on  his  name,  etc.,  all  have  some  queer  experi- 
ences to  tell  about  him. 

George  Moore,  who  had  stood  so  gallantly 
by  Whistler's  side,  was  thrown  over  without 
much  ado  as  soon  as  he  remained  neutral,  and 
did  not  join  the  front  ranks  of  the  fighting 
host  in  the  Sir  William  Eden  episode.  Swin- 
burne did  not  fare  better;  nor  his  friend  Stott 
of  Oldham,  on  whom  he  had  passed  such  ex- 
aggerated eulogies  in  the  beginning  of  his 


192  The  Whistler  Book 

career.  Even  his  oldest  friend  and  supporter, 
Kennedy,  the  picture  dealer,  was  finally  be- 
spattered with  the  mud  of  Whistler's  invec- 
tives. His  bon  mots  and  repartee  in  ordinary 
life  were  as  significant  as  those  in  his  pam- 
phlets, letters  and  catalogues.  We  all  remem- 
ber his  "  Why  drag  in  Velasquez!  "  his  "  Good- 
ness gracious!  you  don't  fancy  a  man  owns  a 
picture  because  he  bought  it,"  or  "  Indeed!  it 
is  not  every  man  in  England  I  paint  for." 
Then  again  talking  about  Leighton,  "  Yes, 
and  he  paints  too."  In  meeting  Du  Maurier 
and  Wilde  at  one  of  the  exhibitions  Whistler 
burst  forth :  "  I  say,  which  one  of  you  invented 
the  other,  eh !  "  The  famous  repartee,  Whis- 
tler :  — "  Nature's  creeping  up."  Oscar 
Wilde:  "Heavens,  I  wish  I  had  said  that!" 
'  You  will,"  dryly  replied  Whistler. 

Most  of  his  adversaries  were  smaller  men  or, 
at  any  rate,  lacked  the  faculty  of  repartee,  and 
for  a  witty  man  it  was  easy  enough  to  mock 
them  out  of  existence.  Only  Oscar  Wilde, 
who  himself  made  a  profession  of  scattering 
corrosive  epigrams,  occasionally  got  the  best 
of  him.  His  sarcastic  remark,  "  With  our 
James,  vulgarity  begins  at  home;  would  that 
it  might  stop  there,"  was  one  of  the  sentences 
that  made  Whistler  lay  aside  his  pen  for  a 
while  and  ponder  on  reciprocity.  The  famous 


Courtesy  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum,  New  York 

MR.  KENNEDY:     PORTRAIT  STUDY. 


Whistler's  Iconoclasm  193 

Whistler  -v.  Ruskin  libel  suit  was  gotten  up, 
I  believe,  largely  for  effect.  It  happened  nat- 
urally enough,  but  Whistler  made  the  most  of 
it.  And,  from  the  press  agent's  point  of  view, 
it  was  the  opportunity  of  a  life  time. 

In  1877  Sir  Coutts  Lindsey  had  organized 
an  independent  gallery  in  opposition  to  the 
London  Royal  Academy.  Among  the  ex- 
hibitors were  Burne-Jones,  Millais,  Leigh- 
ton  and  Whistler.  The  works  of  the  pre- 
Raphaelites  were  praised  but  Whistler's  noc- 
turnes were  ignored  or  sneered  at.  He  per- 
haps would  have  taken  no  notice  of  the  or- 
dinary criticisms,  but  when  John  Ruskin,  who 
then  was  in  the  prime  of  his  fame,  wrote  in  his 
"  Fors  Clavigera,"  an  art  publication,  a  short 
and  most  obtrusive  paragraph  about  the  pic- 
tures, he  put  on  his  paint  and  feathers  once 
more  and  went  on  the  war  path.  It  is  incred- 
ible how  a  man  like  Ruskin  could  have  ever 
been  so  bitter  and  pedantic,  to  write  the  fol- 
lowing paragraph: 

"  Lastly  the  mannerisms  and  errors  of  these 
pictures  (by  Burne-Jones),  whatever  may  be 
their  extent,  are  never  affected  or  indolent. 
Their  work  is  natural  to  the  painter,  however 
strange  to  us;  and  it  is  wrought  with  utmost 
conscience  of  care,  however  far,  to  his  own  or 


194  The  Whistler  Book 

our  desire,  the  result  may  be  yet  incomplete. 
Scarcely  so  much  can  be  said  for  any  other 
pictures  of  the  modern  school  ;  their  eccentrici- 
ties are  most  always  in  some  degree  forced, 
and  their  imperfections  gratuitously,  if  not 
impertinently  indulged.  For  Mr.  Whistler's 
sake,  no  less  than  for  the  protection  of  the  pur- 
chasers, Sir  Coutts  Lindsey  ought  not  to  have 
admitted  works  into  the  gallery  in  which  the 
ill-educated  conceit  of-  the  artist  so  nearly  ap- 
proached the  aspect  of  the  wilful  imposture. 
I  have  seen,  and  heard,  much  of  cockney  impu- 
dence before  now  ;  but  never  expected  to  hear 
a  coxcomb  ask  two  hundred  guineas  for  fling- 
ing a  pot  of  paint  in  the  public's  face. 

RUSKIN." 


The  suit  went  to  trial  before  Judge  Hud- 
dleston  and  a  special  jury,  November  25th, 
1878,  and  Whistler  won  the  case,  although  one 
farthing  damages  were  allowed  him.  He  pub- 
lished a  small  brown  covered  paper  pamphlet  : 
"  Whistler  v.  Ruskin  —  Art  and  Art  Critics," 
the  same  year.  Not  satisfied  with  his  scant 
victory,  he  endeavoured  to  strike  back  at  his 
still  powerful  adversary  by  publishing  a  hodge- 
podge resume  of  Ruskin's  writings  and  delib- 
erately stringing  together  a  number  of  well 
known  sentences  in  such  a  way  that  they  have 


Whistler's  Iconoclasm  195 

no  connection  whatever.  All  this  is  amusing 
but  smacks  of  the  mountebank. 

The  Mortimer  Menpes  incident  shows  a  dif- 
ferent side  of  his  nature.  It  was  a  controversy 
as  to  who  was  "  the  father  of  the  decorative 
revolution,"  Menpes  or  Whistler.  Intensely 
sympathetic  with  the  work  of  Japan's  great 
painters  and  craftsmen,  Menpes'  impressions 
of  her  cities,  temples,  shrines,  theatres,  gardens, 
and  museums,  received  during  a  few  months' 
stay  in  that  land  of  delight,  are  worthy  of  con- 
sideration, but  he  had  no  claim  to  the  decora- 
tive innovation,  not  even  to  the  pink  hue  of 
his  house,  as  Whistler  had  mixed  the  colour 
himself  one  summer  afternoon,  when  Menpes 
was  still  his  pupil.  When  a  dispute  was  of 
real  importance  Whistler  was  apt  to  ignore  it 
entirely,  and  let  others  fight  it  out  for  him.  It 
was  too  serious  a  matter  for  exchange  of  witty 
remarks.  This  shows  that  Whistler,  at  times, 
realized  the  value  of  silence. 

Even  as  there  were  friends  and  acquaint- 
ances and  associates  with  whom  he  never  quar- 
relled, he  liked  Carlo  Pelligrini  to  the  very 
end.  He  never  picked  a  quarrel  with  Sarasate, 
nor  with  the  Comte  Montesquieu,  though  most 
people  did.  Charles  Keene,  the  caricaturist, 
never  writhed  under  Whistler's  "  strong  arm." 
Even  Sheridan  Ford  came  out  unscathed,  al- 


196  The  Whistler  Book 

though  they  were  never  on  terms  of  "  com- 
monplace "  amity  and  acquiescence.  Nor  did 
ever  his  American  acquaintances  advance  to 
"  warm  personal  friends.'*  H.  W.  Singer  says 
in  his  little  monograph  that  "  Perhaps  Whis- 
tler's human  soul  was  occupied  by  a  double 
portion  of  malice,  invidiousness  and  pettiness, 
so  that  his  artistic  spirit  might  be  entirely  free 
and  unfettered  in  its  greatness."  As  good  an 
explanation  as  many  others. 

He  wrote  down  those  records  he  thought 
important  as  did  Casanova  his  amours  and 
Cellini  his  assassinations  and,  collected  into  a 
book,  they  form  a  sort  of  autobiography  to 
those  who  can  read  between  the  lines.  He 
had  a  way,  as  Pennell  tells  us,  half -laugh- 
ing, half-serious,  of  calling  it  his  Bible. 
;<  Well,  you  know,  you  have  only  to  look,  and 
there  it  all  is  in  the  Bible,"  or  "  I  am  afraid 
you  do  not  know  the  Bible  as  you  should,"  he 
would  reply  to  some  question  about  his  work 
or  his  experiences  as  an  artist. 

As  remarked  previously,  his  attacks  were 
remarkably  free  from  all  personal  and  domes- 
tic references,  they  referred  solely  to  art  trans- 
actions related  to  the  profession.  Whistler  was 
an  artist,  and  naturally  over-sensitive.  He 
could  not  help  being  impatient  of  criticisms 
that  utterly  failed  to  see  the  aim  of  his  work, 


Whistler's  Iconoelasm  197 

sometimes  praising  him  for  qualities  a  painter 
would  blush  to  possess  and  again  heaping  un- 
merited blame  on  admirable  achievements. 
Things  really  irritated  him  and  he  worked 
himself  into  a  white  fury,  of  ten*  over  nothing. 
Later  on  his  love  for  notoriety  and  his  pose 
made  him  exaggerate  the  importance  of  events. 
As  in  the  case  of  every  master,  there  were,  of 
course,  followers  and  disciples.  To  these,  the 
master  held  forth,  now  instilling  a  principle 
of  art,  now  relating  an  encounter  with  this  or 
that  critic.  Mr.  Menpes  speaks  quite  truth- 
fully when  he  says:  "  All  the  same,  he  was  one 
of  the  true  fearless  champions  that  art  ever 
had,  he  fought  with  the  dignity  of  the  artist, 
demanded  consideration  and  courteous  treat- 
ment, and  upheld  dignity  of  workmanship, 
never  tired  of  exposing  and  exploiting  the 
ignorance  of  the  average  press  critic." 

The  real  Whistler,  then,  as  his  closest  friends 
saw  him,  was  an  impulsive,  quixotic,  erratic, 
if  you  like,  but,  above  and  beyond  everything 
else,  an  artist  of  indisputable  genius  who 
fought  a  losing  battle  for  a  quarter  of  a  cen- 
tury; jested  through  it  all,  and  finally  tri- 
umphed magnificently.  His  minor  accom- 
plishments were  illumined  by  the  flare  of  news- 
paper polemics;  his  greater  and  nobler  quali- 
ties were  too  often  obscured  by  the  lack  of  com- 


198 The  Whistler  Book 

prehension.  Yet  there  were  times  when  Whis- 
tler gave  of  his  best  simply  and  sincerely  to 
all  who  had  the  perception  to  receive  his  gift. 
Such  an  occasion  was  that  on  which  he  deliv- 
ered for  the  first  time  his  immortal  lecture  on 
art,  "  Ten  O'Clock."  He  chose  this  title  be- 
cause he  did  not  want  the  people  to  rush  to  him 
from  the  dinner  table,  as  to  the  theatre.  Ten 
o'clock  was  early  enough.  The  audience  and 
critics  who  greeted  him  in  Prince's  Hall,  Lon- 
don, on  that  never  to  be  forgotten  occasion, 
were  puzzled  by  what  they  chose  to  regard  as 
Whistler's  "  new  pose."  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
he  was  not  posing  at  all,  but  had  called  them 
to  him  that  he  might  impart  to  them,  out  of 
his  very  heart,  the  standard  of  artistic  faith 
by  which  his  life  was  ruled.  It  was  a  revolt 
not  so  much  against  the  conclusions  of  modern 
paintings  nor  a  plea  for  Japanese  art  (he  does 
not  mention  Japan  except  once  in  the  beautiful 
final  sentence:  "  The  story  of  the  beautiful  is 
already  complete,  hewn  in  the  marble  of  Par- 
thenon —  and  broidered,  with  the  birds,  upon 
the  fan  of  Hokusai  at  the  foot  of  Fusiyama  ") 
as  against  the  pedantic  and  realistic  methods 
in  art,  a  fierce  crusade  for  the  ideals  of  paint- 
ing. His  style  is  virile,  individual,  marvel- 
lously condensed  and  suggestive.  It  contains 
a  number  of  beautifully  put  phrases  like :  "  Art 


THE    LIME    BURNER    (ETCHING). 


Whistler's  Iconoclasm  199 

happens  —  no  hovel  is  safe,  no  prince  can  de- 
pend upon  it." 

"  Colours  are  not  more  since  the  heavy  hang- 
ings of  night  were  first  drawn  aside,  and  the 
loveliness  of  night  revealed." 

"  If  art  be  rare  to-day  it  is  seldom  hereto- 
fore." In  these  aphorisms  he  puts  his  finger 
on  the  secret  of  literary  expression  —  the  ap- 
plication of  the  simplest  and  subtlest  means  to 
the  most  complicated  and  inexistent  subject. 

Paragraphs  as  the  following  must  excite  the 
admiration  of  every  literary  man. 

"  Alas !  ladies  and  gentlemen,  Art  has  been 
maligned.  She  has  naught  in  common  with 
such  practices.  She  is  a  goddess  of  dainty 
thought  —  reticent  of  habit,  abjuring  all  ob- 
trusiveness,  purposing  in  no  way  to  better 
others." 

"  She  is,  withal,  selfishly  occupied  with  her 
own  perfection  only  —  having  no  desire  to 
teach  —  seeking  and  finding  the  beautiful  in 
all  conditions  and  at  all  times  as  did  her  priest 
Rembrandt,  when  he  saw  picturesque  gran- 
deur and  noble  dignity  in  the  Jews'  quarter 
of  Amsterdam,  and  lamented  not  that  its  in- 
habitants were  not  Greeks." 

Or  again: 

"  Humanity  takes  the  place  of  art,  and 
God's  creations  are  excused  by  their  useful- 


200  The  Whistler  Book 

ness.  Beauty  is  confounded  with  virtue  and, 
before  a  work  of  art,  it  is  asked :  '  What  good 
shall  it  do?' 

"  Hence  it  is  that  nobility  of  action  in  his  life 
is  hopelessly  linked  with  the  merit  of  the  work 
that  portrays  it;  and  thus  the  people  have 
acquired  the  habit  of  16oking,  as  who  should 
say,  not  at  a  picture,  but  through  it,  at  some 
human  fact,  that  shall,  not  from  a  social  point 
of  view,  better  their  mental  or  moral  state.  So 
we  have  come  to  hear  of  the  painting  that  ele- 
vates, and  the  duty  of  the  painter  —  of  the 
picture  that  is  full  of  thought  and  of  the  panel 
that  merely  decorates." 

Whistler  fought  principally  for  three  big 
ideas: 

"  That  the  main  object  of  painting  was  to 
express  the  beauty  of  the  technical  medium 
unalloyed  by  any  exterior  motive,  independent 
of  time  and  place." 

"  That  art  was  not  restricted  to  any  special 
locality,  but  universal,  cosmopolitan." 

'  That  art  could  be  understood  only  by  the 
artist  and  that  all  criticism  consequently  was 
futile  occupation." 

All  these  arguments  have  sifted  down  into 
the  rank  and  file  of  the  profession,  they  have 
become  common  property  and  are  continually 
used  in  the  every-day  conversations  of  artists. 


Whistler's  Iconoclasm  201 

They  are  all  three  open  to  criticism,  and  in  a 
way  (like  all  things,  according  to  Walt  Whit- 
man) have  done  as  much  harm  as  good. 

That  the  main  object  of  art  is  art,  cannot  be 
confuted.  But  what  is  art  in  painting !  Is  all 
poetry  and  sentiment  in  a  painting  to  be  ex- 
pressed by  the  actual  handling  of  the  colours, 
the  process  of  handling  and  the  mechanism  of 
brushwork!  Can  all  the  poetry  be  contained 
in  the  objects  themselves  and  the  way  they 
are  painted?  It  has  become  the  fashion  of 
artists  to  say  that  they  are  painters ~,  not  artists. 

Now  what  do  they  mean  by  this?  What 
is  a  painter?  A  person  who  can  handle  the 
brush  and  who  knows  colour,  or,  in  other 
words,  who  masters  the  tool  of  his  trade.  And 
what  is  an  artist?  The  term  artist  is  not  lim- 
ited to  one  profession.  It  applies  to  a  musi- 
cian or  a  sculptor  as  well  as  painter.  In  call- 
ing somebody  an  artist  we  mean  to  convey  that 
he  has  a  poetic  conception  in  his  work.  But 
he  must  surely  possess  an  equal  mastery  of 
technique  or  he  would  be  unable  to  express  it. 
And  is  the  painter  absolutely  void  of  poetic 
conception?  Surely  not.  He  tries  to  get  the 
poetry  out  of  the  medium  itself,  while  the  artist 
adds  something  from  the  outside  to  the  me- 
dium. In  that  sense  Abbott  Thayer,  Ryder 
and  Inness  are  artists,  Sargent  and  Chase  are 


202  The  Whistler  Book 

painters.  But  how  about  Chavannes,  Whis- 
tler, Israels?  I  suppose  they  are  both.  There 
we  are  in  a  dilemma.  They  oppose  subject 
painting;  the  beauty  of  the  object,  the  poetry 
that  is  inherent  in  what  they  see  before  them, 
is  supposed  to  be  sufficient.  But  they  object  to 
the  phrase  that  they  are  merely  interested  in 
surface  beauty,  they  assert  that  they  search 
for  character  and  the  inner  meaning  of  things 
as  much  as  anybody  else.  In  this  they  contra- 
dict their  own  and  Whistler's  argument. 
Whistler  himself  was  all  his  life  a  subject 
painter.  Of  course  he  has  avoided  telling 
stories,  but  he  has  suggested  them,  and  given 
to  each  picture  that  vague  note  of  interest 
which  every  true  painting  should  possess.  The 
main  purpose  is  to  make  the  picture  more  in- 
teresting. And  you  cannot  make  a  picture 
more  interesting  without  adding  something. 
Painting  for  painting's  sake  is  an  impossibil- 
ity. One  cannot  translate  nature  and  life  into 
colour  without  the  help  of  the  imagination.  A 
little  more  or  less,  what  is  the  difference? 

The  second  claim,  that  all  art  is  cosmopoli- 
tan, has  been  welcomed  by  all  our  ex-patriots, 
who  have  neither  the  strength  nor  the  inclina- 
tion to  discover  virgin  material  in  their  own 
country  and  to  translate  it  into  beauty.  It 
furnishes  a  marvellous  loop-hole  for  the  imi- 


Whistler's  Iconoclasm  203 

tative  talent.  Whistler  said :  ;<  There  is  no 
such  thing  as  English  art  —  art  is  art  when  it 
is  good  enough."  This  is  at  its  best  merely 
a  truism.  We  perfectly  agree  that  only  good 
workmanship  makes  a  painting  worthy  of  the 
name  of  art,  but  surely  Hogarth,  Gainsbor- 
ough and  Constable  have  a  true  native  flavour 
in  their  work,  which  they  could  have  gained 
nowhere  but  on  British  soil.  All  art,  when 
perfect,  can  command  universal  appreciation, 
but  it  is  perfect  in  most  instances  only  when  it 
has,  perhaps  not  so  much  a  local  interest,  but 
a  local  motive  or  stimulant,  i.  e.  it  must  have 
inhaled  the  atmosphere  of  some  peculiar  local- 
ity and  the  faculty  to  exude  it  again.  I  believe, 
Whistler  used  his  argument  largely  as  a  sub- 
terfuge, to  hide  his  own  enthusiasm  for  Japa- 
nese art.  He  understood  how  to  amalgamate 
the  foreign  influences  and  his  own  individual- 
ity (this  I  have  analyzed  at  length  in  some 
other  chapter).  His  art  in  a  sense  was  cos- 
mopolitan, but  merely  because  he  was  the  first 
to  adopt  the  new  principles  of  an  Eastern  art ; 
and  it  is  just  as  easy  to  trace  American  as 
Japanese  or  Old  Master  traits  in  his  work.  I 
claim  that  all  great  art  is  local,  and  mention 
only  three  of  the  greatest  painters,  Velasquez, 
Rembrandt,  and  Diirer,  to  prove  my  argu- 
ment. They  surely  were  imbued  with  the 


204  The  Whistler  Book 

spirit  of  their  time  and  country.  And  I  am 
equally  certain  that  a  painter  who  would  ex- 
press America  as  it  is  to-day  (as  Whitman 
has  done  in  his  time  in  literature)  would  be 
a  greater  man  than  Whistler.  The  foremost 
masters  of  the  nineteenth  century,  Monet, 
Manet,  Chavannes,  and  Whistler,  were  all  in- 
novators in  technical  problems,  for  they  dis- 
covered new  mediums  of  expression,  and,  in  a 
way,  only  prepared  the  way  for  more  concen- 
trated expressions  of  art. 

The  third  great  theory  of  the  essay,  which 
consists  largely  of  Whistler's  arrogant  asser- 
tions as  to  the  superiority  of  the  artist  and  his 
own  hatred  for  so  called  connoisseur,  dilet- 
tante, and  critic,  has  made  a  very  proud  man 
of  the  painter.  Imagine  an  ordinary  wielder 
of  the  brush  reading  the  following  sentence: 
'  Vulgarity  —  under  whose  fascinating  influ- 
ence '  the  many  '  have  elbowed  *  the  few,'  and 
the  gentle  circle  of  Art  swarms  with  the  intox- 
icated mob  of  mediocrity,  whose  leaders  prate 
and  counsel,  and  call  aloud,  where  the  gods 
once  spoke  in  whispers. 

"  And  now  from  their  midst  the  dilettante 
stalks  abroad.  The  amateur  is  loosed.  The 
voice  of  the  aesthetic  is  heard  in  the  land,  and 
the  catastrophe  is  upon  us." 

"  The  artist  in  fulness  of  heart  and  head 


Whistler's  Iconoclasm  205 

is  glad,  and  laughs  aloud,  and  is  happy  in  his 
strength,  and  is  merry  at  the  pompous  pre- 
tension—  the  solemn  stillness  that  surrounds 
him." 

Whistler  lashed  himself  into  the  belief  that 
he  was  the  sole  judge  of  his  work.  This  is  a 
very  erroneous  attitude.  Creation  is  an  un- 
conscious process.  Few  artists  have  the  criti- 
cal faculty  to  analyze  their  work,  and  years 
pass  before  he  is  able  to  get  a  clear  view  of 
his  own  work.  If  we  were  an  art-loving  na- 
tion things  would  be  different,  but  interest 
in  painting  has  become  a  privilege  of  the  rich 
and  of  museums;  it  is  too  remote  to  be  con- 
sidered an  immediate  pleasure.  It  needs  some 
kind  intermediator  to  bring  about  more  sym- 
pathy between  the  public  and  the  artist.  What 
writers,  who  can  write  and  to  whom  the  smell 
of  paint  is  not  unfamiliar,  see  in  a  picture,  is 
one  thing.  What  a  painter  desires  to  express 
is  an  entirely  different  proposition,  but  this 
is  no  reason  to  find  fault  with  the  writer. 
What  he  says  may  be  explanatory  and  inter- 
esting. A  work  of  art  is  made  to  arouse  sen- 
sations, pure  or  aesthetic,  emotions  and  vagrant 
thoughts,  and  they  will  differ  vastly  in  every 
beholder.  This  may  be  beyond  the  pale  of  un- 
attached writers  and  gentlemen  clerks  of  col- 
lections and  appointed  preachers,  into  which 


206 The  Whistler  Book 

Whistler  has  divided  the  critics,  but  there  is 
no  argument  necessary  to  make  any  reader  be- 
lieve that  authors  like  Hawthorne,  the  Gon- 
courts,  Guy  de  Maupassant,  Paul  Heyse, 
Mallarme,  knew  how  to  write  about  art. 

Whistler  also  laughed  at  the  pretence  of  the 
state  as  a  fosterer  of  art.  In  this  he  was  right. 
Art  can  not  be  forced  upon  a  community.  It 
is  a  matter  of  individual  appreciation.  It  is 
a  matter  of  conquest. 

But  this  is,  after  all,  a  busy  world  we  are 
living  in,  and  unless  things  are  pointed  out 
to  us  we  may  overlook  them  or  not  even  learn 
of  their  existence,  no  matter  how  hungry  we 
may  be  for  new  sensations.  And  that  is  the 
crucial  point  where  the  art  writer  may  prove 
useful.  The  majority  of  artists  entertain  no 
kindly  feeling  towards  art  writers.  In  their 
just  anger  with  critics,  who  arrogate  to  them- 
selves the  right  of  telling  an  artist  how  he 
should  have  done  his  work,  they  forget  that 
the  real  writer  on  art,  misnamed  critic,  has 
quite  a  different  aim,  and  is  their  best  friend. 
For  he  takes  upon  himself  the  duty  of  medi- 
ating between  artist  and  public.  Without 
him,  we  may  say,  the  true  artist  is  nowhere. 
True  art  (in  opposition  to  commercial  work 
and  all  vulgar  practices  to  which  pictorialism 
is  put)  is  a  difficult  matter  to  comprehend. 


Whistler's  Iconoclasm  207 

When  the  public,  composed  of  people  whose 
energy  is  drained  almost  to  exhaustion  by 
daily  associations  and  occupations,  suddenly 
encounters  a  new  phase  of  art,  it  can  no  more 
formulate  a  just  opinion  of  it  than  it  could 
when  placed  face  to  face  with  the  tablets  of 
Karnak  and  Sakkarah.  Just  as  the  electrician 
in  a  new  invention  must  explain  the  working 
of  natural  forces,  so  must  the  "  critic  "  explain 
the  work  of  the  artistic  forces  which  come  into 
play  in  the  production  of  a  picture.  Most 
artists  have  become  popular  —  as  far  as  the 
true  artist  can  become  popular  —  only  after 
the  eyes  of  the  public  have  been  opened  by 
some  critic.  Such  artists  as  find  no  apostle  to 
proclaim  their  creed  die  unattended.  Many 
an  artist  left  his  family  in  poverty;  but  after 
his  death  critics  dwelt  at  length  upon  the  beau- 
ties of  his  pictures,  and  only  then  the  public 
began  to  pay  enormous  prices  for  them. 

And  Whistler  himself!  Does  he  not  refute 
his  own  contempt  by  his  Barnum-Boulanger- 
like  use  of  the  press?  True  enough  all  his  lit- 
tle squibs  and  elaborate  bids  for  notoriety  had 
some  underlying  truth  which  he  wished  to  ex- 
press. But  if  ever  an  artist  realized  the  power 
of  type  it  was  Whistler. 

As  for  the  ordinary  critic  —  he  deserves  our 
deepest  sympathy.  He  proves  beyond  dispute 


208  The  Whistler  Book 

"  that  there  is  something  rotten  "  in  our  art 
appreciation.  Old  Japan  and  the  Primitifs 
knew  them  not.  He  is  harmless,  however,  as 
he  has  absolutely  nothing  to  do  with  art.  He 
is  a  necessary  evil  produced  by  the  shortcom- 
ings of  the  time.  Anatole  France's  remark 
about  art  criticism,  that  it  should  be  the  adven- 
ture of  one's  soul  among  masterpieces,  is 
enough,  but  he  forgets  that  the  adventure 
should  be  the  experience  of  a  literary  artist. 
For  the  only  criticism  that  is  lasting  is  either 
biographical  in  tendency  or  artistic  com- 
mentary, which  by  a  new  work  of  art  reflects 
the  beauty  of  the  original.  If  a  picture  is 
really  beautiful,  one  should  be  able  to  write  a 
poem  about  it,  or  express  it  in  music,  dancing 
or  some  other  art. 


PORTRAIT   OF   STEPHANE    MALLARME    (LITHOGRAPH). 


CHAPTER   XI 

AS  HIS  FRIENDS   KNEW   HIM 

ONE  afternoon  in  1892,  walking  along  the 
boulevards  with  Stephane  Mallarme,  during 
absinthe  hours,  I  met  Whistler.  The  poet  and 
the  painter  raised  their  hats  and  shook  hands 
and  exchanged  a  few  words  in  French,  which 
I  did  not  understand.  I  was  introduced,  Whis- 
tler bowed,  shook  hands  and  then  we  passed 
on.  It  was  one  of  those  fugitive  meetings  that 
occur  so  frequently  and  to  which  no  importance 
can  be  attached.  It  gives  one  the  sole  and 
rather  futile  privilege  of  having  seen  Whistler, 
just  as  I  have  seen  Liszt,  the  king  of  Bavaria, 
Ibsen  and  many  others,  without  having  be- 
come acquainted  with  them. 

I  do  not  remember  how  Whistler  was 
dressed,  I  only  recall  the  top  hat,  monocle  and 
cane.  He  looked  rather  undersized  to  me,  a 
trifle  affected,  but  exceedingly  picturesque, 
and  possessing  that  peculiar  magnetism  which 
we  feel  in  the  presence  of  great  men. 

209 


210  The  Whistler  Book 

As  for  a  more  intimate  analysis  of  Whis- 
tler's personality,  I  must  refer  to  some  of  his 
friends,  who  have  expressed  themselves  in 
print.  I  shall  cite  a  number  of  paragraphs 
that  have  the  merit  of  descriptive  verity, 
and  that  will  give  a  clear  insight  into  his  curi- 
ous, highstrung  character,  as  it  appeared  in 
every-day  life. 

'  What  strikes  one  in  Whistler's  biogra- 
phy," says  Laurence  Binyon,  the  London 
critic  and  poet,  "  is  the  extraordinary  amount 
of  time,  trouble  and  energy  he  expended  on 
things  and  people  that  did  not  matter,  the 
record  of  his  squabbles,  the  fanatical  loyalty 
of  his  enmities,  the  rage  of  his  *  egotism.' ' 
This  is  the  Whistler  that  the  world  knew.  But 
there  was  another  Whistler,  Mr.  Binyon  sug- 
gests, —  "A  man  of  singular  sensitiveness, 
who  shunned  the  vulgar  daytime  and  stole 
abroad  at  twilight  .  .  .  bent  always  on  reveal- 
ing to  his  fellow  men  the  loveliness  that  lurks 
in  familiar  sights  and  among  the  dingy  aspects 
of  a  modern  city." 

One  of  his  earliest  intimates  who  writes  of 
him  in  Vanity  Fair,  as  one  of  the  "  Men  of 
the  Day,"  signed  John  Junior,  says :  "  Mr. 
Whistler  — '  Jimmy  '  as  his  friends  call  him  — 
is  personally  one  of  the  most  charming,  simple 
and  witty  of  men.  He  touches  nothing  but  he 


As  His  Friends  Knew  Him        211 

embellishes  and  enlivens  it  with  startling  nov- 
elty of  conceit.  His  hereditary  lock  of  white 
hair  is  a  rallying  point  of  humour  wherever  he 
goes,  and  his  studio  is  the  resort  of  all  who 
delight  in  hearing  the  new  thing." 

The  article  continues  to  say  that  it  is  evi- 
dently not  difficult  for  the  newspaper  corre- 
spondent to  approach  him,  as  much  had  been 
written  about  his  charming  house  and  spacious 
studio  in  Chelsea.  He  was  so  thoroughly  an 
artist  that  material  seemed  indifferent  to  him. 
His  famous  "  Peacock  Room,"  which  he  did 
for  Mr.  Leyland,  shows  his  genius  as  a  dec- 
orator, and  conservative  opinion  is,  that  he  was 
even  greater  as  an  etcher  than  as  a  painter. 
He  had  engraved,  and  painted  in  water- 
colours,  of  course,  and  his  attire,  from  his  top- 
coat to  his  shoe  strings,  was  made  from  his  own 
designs.  Apparently  he  chafed  under  the  aca- 
demic tyranny  of  even  the  tailor.  Of  his  pow- 
ers in  mimicry  and  in  character  acting  his 
friend  never  tired  of  talking  and  telling  anec- 
dotes which  illustrate  it,  and  indicate  that  even 
in  drollery  his  art  is  as  subtle  as  in  work  of 
seriousness  and  dignity.  "  Dickens  was  not 
a  patch  on  him,"  said  someone,  recently,  who 
had  seen  the  pantomiming  of  both. 

Harper  Pennington,  one  of  his  officially  ac- 
knowledged pupils,  gives  a  fine  description  of 


212  The  Whistler  Book 

the  man  in  the  "  Metropolitan  Magazine  "  of 
1910. 

"  Whistler  was  not  a  tall  man,  but  of  trim 
and  muscular  appearance,  broad-shouldered, 
strong-armed,  and  well  set  up  —  the  result  of 
West  Point  training.  He  was  intensely  act- 
ive and  alert,  although  not  in  the  least  fidgety 
or  nervous.  His  eyes  were  as  bright  as  a 
bird's,  flashing  from  face  to  face  in  a  group 
of  persons.  It  is  noteworthy  that  he  moved 
his  eyes  and  not  his  head  from  side  to  side, 
fixing  each  speaker  in  his  turn.  This  may  have 
been  another  effect  of  West  Point  drills  — 
*  Eyes  right,'  '  Eyes  left.'  His  long  hands 
and  bony  wrists  suggested  force  and  delicacy 
of  touch.  If  he  was  a  trifle  robin-legged,  the 
effect  served  to  enhance  a  certain  dandified 
attitude  he  frequently  assumed,  especially 
when  chaffing  someone  who  deserved  it,  to  the 
delight  of  the  gallery,  without  which  he  seldom 
thought  it  worth  while  to  perform. 

'  The  man  was  above  all  things  gregari- 
ous —  he  did  not  like  to  be  alone  —  and  most 
intensely  human.  He  had  his  foibles,  faults 
and  virtues  like  the  rest.  The  Whistler  I  knew 
was  clean  of  person  and  speech.  I  never  heard 
him  utter  one  word  that  might  not  be  repeated 
without  offending  the  most  easily  shocked  of 
prudes.  He  has  been  described  as  untidy.  He 


As  His  Friends  Knew  Him        213 

was,  on  the  contrary,  the  only  man  who  ever 
washed  his  hair  three  times  every  day,  and  was 
fastidious  to  the  point  of  being  prinky  about 
his  person.  His  clothes,  generally  black,  were 
always  simple  in  the  extreme  and  spotless,  even 
when,  in  those  old  Venice  days  of  dreadful 
poverty,  they  were  worn  threadbare  —  actu- 
ally in  holes.  His  courage  was  indisputable. 
He  would  fight  any  man,  no  matter  what  size 
or  weight,  and  the  jaunty  cheerfulness  with 
which  he  bore  privations,  when  he  lacked  every- 
thing, even  the  materials  necessary  for  his 
work,  deceived  those  who  were  his  daily  com- 
panions and  sufficiently  proved  his  moral 
pluck. 

"  He  wore  a  black  silk  ribbon  tie  at  his  neck, 
a  bow  with  six  inch  loops  and  fluttering  ends, 
but  that  was  all  that  was  unusual  in  his  attire, 
unless  the  long  bamboo  wands  of  canes  —  a 
dark  one  for  the  night  and  a  light  for  day  — 
should  be  included.  Nothing  that  glittered, 
not  even  a  watch-chain  or  a  ring,  formed  any 
part  of  his  costume.  A  tiny  white  or  yellow 
flower  at  his  buttonhole  was  his  unique  adorn- 
ment. 

"  Is  it  true,  as  Thackeray  declared,  that 
ordinary  mortals  do,  indeed,  delight  to  pry 
into  the  weakness  of  the  strong,  the  smallness 
of  the  great?  I  have  thought  it  best  to  show 


214  The  Whistler  Book 

my  Whistler  as  he  really  was,  a  simple,  kind 
and  tender-hearted  fellow,  who  turned  his  best 
side  towards  the  unappreciative  world  he  lived 
in,  not  from  vanity  of  person,  but  to  hide  his 
poverty,  and  the  makeshifts  he  was  driven  to 
employ,  as  a  man  will  say  '  I  like  to  walk,' 
when  he  can't  afford  to  ride.  His  cackling 
laugh  hid  many  a  bitter  thrust  that  had 
gone  home  and  hurt  him  to  the  quick.  He 
laughed,  and  then  would  come  the  swift  riposte 
of  witty  repartee.  He  never  attacked  a  living 
creature,  never  struck  the  first  blow,  and  would 
have  been  glad  to  live  in  peace  with  all  the 
world.  But  so  coarse  were  the  criticisms  of 
his  person  and  his  work  that  he  was  driven  to 
defend  Art,  which  was  the  only  thing  he  could 
not  joke  about.  Upon  the  rare  occasions  when 
he  talked  with  me,  as  a  master  might,  about 
his  work,  his  face  itself  seemed  transfigured. 

"  Brave  when  he  was  well,  his  cowardice 
when  ill  or  in  pain  was  comical.  If  he  caught 
cold  he  would  disappear,  and  those  who  knew 
him  well  were  sure  he  had  fled  to  his  doctor  — 
his  brother's  house  in  Wimpole  Street.  Dr. 
Whistler  told  me  that  Jimmy  would  appear 
all  muffled  up  and  say:  'Willie,  I  am  ill!  I 
am  going  up  to  bed  —  here  —  and  won't  go 
home  until  you've  cured  me ! '  Any  little  mal- 
ady was  enough  to  demoralize  him.  In  his 


ARRANGEMENT  IN  FLESH-COLOUR  AND  BLACK: 
THEODORE  DURET. 


As  His  Friends  Knew  Him        215 

hours  of  weakness  he  would  hide  away  like  a 
wounded  animal  and  not  show  up  again  until 
he  had  been  nursed  back  to  his  normal  state. 

"  Whistler  was  extremely  frugal  and  ab- 
stemious. He  ate  and  drank  most  moderately 
the  plainest  fare.  He  liked  dainty  dishes  and 
rare  old  wine,  but  had  a  horror  of  the  '  groan- 
ing board '  at  huge  set  feasts  and  formal  ban- 
quets. He  could  cook  quite  decently  himself, 
and  sometimes  made  an  omelet  or  scrambled 
eggs,  but  these  culinary  feats  I  never  saw  per- 
formed ;  as  to  the  Master's  knowledge  of  wine, 
it  was  very  limited  indeed.  I  have  seen  him 
mistake  a  heavy  vintage  of  champagne  for 
1  Tisane.'  I  never  saw  him  cook  anything, 
even  in  his  poorest  days,  in  Venice,  but  I  know 
that  he  liked  a  good  dinner  at  a  club  even 
when  it  was  punctually  served  and  consisted 
of  quite  ordinary  delicacies  such  as  other  men 
delight  in." 

The  notes  from  his  childhood  are  rather 
scarce.  In  his  mother's  diary,  written  during 
the  stay  in  Russia,  we  find  the  following  refer- 
ence to  him  when  he  was  twelve  years  old: 
"...  Jimmie's  eagerness  to  attain  all  his  de- 
sires for  information  and  his  fearlessness  often 
make  him  offend  and  it  makes  him  appear  less 
amiable  than  he  really  is."  And  at  some  other 
place,  when  they  had  watched  some  parade 


216  The  Whistler  Book 

with  the  Empress  passing:  "  He  behaved  like 
a  man.  With  one  compassing  arm  he  guarded 
me,  and  with  the  other  kept  people  at  a  proper 
distance,  and  I  must  confer,  brilliant  as  the 
spectacle  was,  the  greatest  pleasure  was  de- 
rived by  the  conduct  of  my  dear  and  manly 
boy."  Miss  Emma  Palmer,  his  cousin,  de- 
scribes Whistler  at  this  period  as  "  tall  and 
slight,  with  a  pensive,  delicate  face,  shaded  by 
soft  brown  curls.  He  had  a  foreign  appear- 
ance and  manners,  which,  added  to  his  natural 
abilities,  made  him  very  charming  even  at  that 
age.  He  was  one  of  the  sweetest,  loveliest  boys 
I  ever  knew  and  was  a  great  favourite." 

"  Whistler,  as  a  boy,  was  exactly  what  those 
who  knew  him  as  a  man  would  expect:  gay 
and  bright,  absorbed  in  his  work  when  that 
work  was  in  any  way  related  to  art,  brave  and 
fearless,  selfish,  if  selfishness  is  another  word 
for  ambition,  considerate  and  kindly  above  all 
to  his  mother.  The  boy,  like  the  man,  was 
delightful  to  those  who  knew  and  understood 
him,  *  startling  '  and  '  alarming  '  to  those  who 
did  not." 

Joseph  Pennell,  in  his  excellent  book,  has 
given  us  a  most  fascinating  description  of 
Whistler  as  a  student  in  Paris  and  a  young 
painter  in  England.  No  one  can  refuse  to 
admire  the  loyalty  of  this  writer,  who  has  gath- 


As  His  Friends  Knew  Him        217 

ered  with  such  loving  care  every  note  of  inter- 
est in  Whistler's  life.  The  following  para- 
graphs are  from  his  Quartier  Latin  chapter; 
'  To  Whistler  the  Frenchman  was  more  sym- 
pathetic than  the  English,  in  his  serious  as  in 
his  light  hours.  His  fellow  students  brought 
back  to  England  the  impression  that  he  was 
an  idler;  it  is  hard  to-day  to  make  people  be- 
lieve that  he  was  anything  else  in  his  youth. 
And  yet  he  worked  in  Paris  as  prodigiously  as 
he  played.  To  us  it  is  incomprehensible  how 
he  found  time  to  read  as  a  student,  and  yet 
he  knew  the  literature  of  the  period  thor- 
oughly, and  always  the  charm  of  his  manner 
and  his  courtesy  made  it  delightful  to  do  any- 
thing for  him.  Few  men  ever  ate  less  than 
Whistler,  but  few  were  more  fastidious  about 
what  they  did  eat  —  no  man  ever  shrank  more 
from  thought,  or  at  the  mention  of  death  than 
Whistler.  There  was  always  in  life  so  much 
for  him  to  do  and  so  little  time  in  which  to 
do  it. 

"  He  was  popular  with  the  children,  and 
delighted  in  music,  though  he  was  not  too  crit- 
ical, for  he  was  known  to  call  the  passing 
hurdy-gurdy  into  his  garden  and  have  it 
ground  under  his  windows.  Occasionally  the 
brother  (Greaves)  played,  so  that  Whistler 
might  dance.  He  was  always  full  of  droller- 


218  The  Whistler  Book 

ies  and  fun.  He  would  imitate  a  man  sawing, 
or  two  men  fighting  at  the  door,  so  cleverly 
that  his  brother  never  ceased  to  be  astonished 
when  he  walked  into  the  room  alone  and  un- 
hurt. He  delighted  in  American  mechanical 
toys  and  his  house  was  full  of  Japanese  dolls. 
One  great  doll,  dressed  like  a  man,  he  would 
take  with  him  not  only  to  Greaves,  but  to  din- 
ners at  the  Little  Holland  House,  where  the 
Princess  then  lived,  and  to  other  houses,  where 
he  put  it  through  amazing  performances." 
Many  notes  are  quoted  from  the  writings  of 
his  associates.  Here  are  some  of  the  most  in- 
teresting of  them:  Mr.  Luke  lonides  writes: 
"  He  was  a  great  favourite  among  us  all,  and 
also  among  the  grisettes  we  used  to  meet  at 
the  gardens  where  dancing  went  on.  I  re- 
member one  especially,  they  called  her  the 
tigress.  She  seemed  madly  in  love  with 
Jimmie  and  would  not  allow  any  other  woman 
to  talk  to  him  when  she  was  present.  She  sat 
for  him  several  times  with  her  curly  hair  down 
her  back.  She  had  a  good  voice  and  I  have 
often  thought  she  suggested  '  Trilby '  to 
Du  Maurier.  One  time  in  a  rage  she  tore  up 
a  lot  of  drawings,  when  Whistler  came  home 
and  saw  them  piled  high  on  the  table,  he 
wept."  If  Whistler  had  money  in  his  pockets, 
Mr.  lonides  says,  he  spent  it  royally  on  others. 


As  His  Friends  Knew  Him        219 

Mr.  Rowley,  "Taffy,"  writes:  "It  was  in 
1857-8  that  I  knew  Whistler,  and  a  most 
amusing  and  eccentric  fellow  he  was,  with  his 
long  black  thick  curly  hair  and  large  felt  hat 
with  a  broad  black  ribbon  around  it.  I  re- 
member on  the  wall  was  a  representation  of 
him,  I  believe  done  by  Du  Maurier,  a  sketch 
of  him,  then  a  fainter  one  and  then  finally  an 
interrogation  —  very  clever  it  was  and  very 
much  like  the  original.  In  those  days  he  did 
not  work  hard." 

'  Whistler  was  never  wholly  one  of  us,"  Mr. 
Armstrong  tells  us;  Drouet  does  not  think 
that  Whistler  worked  hard,  certainly  not  in 
usual  student  fashion  at  the  schools.  He  was 
every  evening  at  the  Students'  ball,  and  as  he 
never  got  up  until  ten  or  eleven  in  the  morn- 
ing, where  was  the  time  for  work? 

The  personal  observations  and  a  glance  at 
one  of  Whistler's  self-portraits  of  this  period 
should  give  us  a  fair  vision  of  the  young 
Whistler  at  Paris.  The  earliest  known  self- 
portrait  in  oil  is  the  one  painted  in  Paris  about 
1859,  the  Whistler  with  a  hat,  engraved  by 
Guerard,  which  was  lent  by  Samuel  P.  Avery 
to  the  Memorial  Exhibition  at  Boston.  It 
shows  him  with  a  slight  mustache,  a  large 
Rubens  hat,  a  big  dotted  tie,  and  a  coat  with 
a  velvet  collar.  It  is  a  good  example  of  a 


220  The  Whistler  Book 

dark  silhouette  against  dark  arrangement. 
The  face  has  a  few  strong  headlights,  the  re- 
mainder of  it  in  middle  tints,  while  the  rest  of 
the  figure  —  the  hat,  the  hair,  the  bust  —  are 
darker  than  the  background.  The  space  ar- 
rangement and  position  of  the  head  are  clever, 
but  the  shape  of  the  bust  is  awkward,  and,  I 
fear  slightly  contorted. 

Mrs.  Jameson  writes :  "  The  man,  as  I  knew 
him,  was  so  different  from  the  descriptions 
and  presentations  I  have  read  of  him,  that  I 
would  like  to  speak  of  the  other  side  of  his 
character.  It  is  impossible  to  conceive  a  more 
unfailingly  courteous,  considerate  and  delight- 
ful companion  than  Whistler  as  I  found  him, 
and  I  never  heard  a  complaint  of  anything  in 
my  simple  household  arrangements  from  him. 
Any  little  failure  was  treated  as  a  joke.  His 
courtesy  to  servants  and  maids  was  particu- 
larly charming,  indeed.  I  cannot  conceive  of 
his  quarrelling  with  any  one  without  provoca- 
tion. His  talk  about  his  own  work  revealed 
a  very  different  man  to  me  from  the  self-satis- 
fied man  he  is  usually  believed  to  have  been. 
He  knew  his  powers,  of  course,  but  he  was 
painfully  aware  of  his  defects  —  in  drawing 
for  instance.  To  my  judgment  he  was  the 
most  absolutely  truthful  man  about  himself 
that  I  ever  met.  I  never  knew  him  to  hide  an 


As  His  Friends  Knew  Him        221 

opinion  or  thought  —  nor  to  try  to  excuse  an 
action." 

Mr.  Watts  Denton,  on  the  other  hand,  tries 
to  make  us  believe  that  Dante  Gabriel  Ros- 
setti  got  exceedingly  tired  of  Whistler  after 
a  while  and  considered  him  a  brainless  fellow, 
who  had  no  more  than  a  quick  malicious  wit 
at  the  expense  of  others,  and  no  real  philos- 
ophy or  humour. 

Otto  Bacher,  the  American  painter  and 
etcher,  has  written  a  delightful  book  entitled 
"With  Whistler  in  Venice."  The  title  is 
slightly  deceptive  as  the  contents  are  largely 
an  eulogy  on  the  beauties  of  Venice.  Whis- 
tler is  a  mere  picturesque  incident.  Bacher 
describes  his  friend  in  this  fashion :  "  When  he 
was  talking  the  glass  (monocle)  was  dropped. 
If  he  sat  at  one  of  the  tables  at  the  cafe  the 
clanging  of  the  eye-glass  accentuated  his  con- 
versation. If  he  was  presented  to  any  one  it 
would  drop  and  dangled  to  and  fro  from  the 
neat  cord  for  a  few  moments,  to  be  readjusted 
after  some  moments  of  fumbling.  His  mon- 
ocle was  always  a  source  of  entertainment. 
He  generally  carried  in  his  hand  a  Japanese 
bamboo  cane,  using  it  to  emphasize  his  re- 
marks. 

:<  He  rose  early,  worked  strenuously  and  re- 
tired late.  He  seemed  to  forget  ordinary 


222  The  Whistler  Book 

hours  for  meals  and  would  often  have  to  be 
called  over  and  over  again.  He  was  a  fastidi- 
ous smoker,  but  a  continuous  one  —  his  choice 
of  words  was  always  a  marked  feature.  His 
manners  were  elegant.  He  would  always 
adapt  himself  to  any  situation  and,  at  the  same 
time,  retain  his  dignity  and  personality." 

Another  interesting  account  was  furnished 
in  the  Cornhill  Magazine,  1903,  by  Mortimer 
Menpes :  "  Whistler  was  of  all  men  essentially 
a  purist  —  a  purist  in  every  sense  of  the  word, 
both  as  a  man  and  a  worker.  As  a  man  he  was 
sadly  misunderstood  by  the  masses.  Whis- 
tler's nature  was  ever  a  combative  one  and  his 
long  and  brilliant  career  was  a  continuous 
fight  throughout.  He  revealed  himself  only 
to  the  few,  and  even  that  small  inner  circle, 
of  whom  I  was  one  of  the  most  devoted,  saw 
the  real  man  but  seldom.  But  on  those  rare 
occasions  Whistler  could  be  gentle,  sweet  and 
sympathetic,  almost  feminine,  so  lovable  was 
he.  Whistler  treated  his  hair  as  everything 
about  him,  purely  from  an  artist's  standpoint, 
as  a  picture,  as  a  bit  of  decoration.  Whistler 
wanted  to  produce  certain  lines  in  the  frock 
coat  and  he  insisted  upon  having  the  skirts  cut 
very  long,  while  there  were  to  be  capes  over  the 
shoulders,  which  must  need  form  graceful 
curves  in  sympathy  with  the  long-flowing 


As  His  Friends  Knew  Him        223 

lines  of  the  skirt.  The  idea  of  wearing  white 
duck  trousers  with  a  black  coat  was  not  con- 
ceived in  order  to  be  unlike  other  people,  but 
because  they  formed  a  harmony  in  black  and 
white  he  loved.  His  straight  brimmed  hats, 
his  cane,  the  way  he  held  his  cane,  each  and 
every  detail  was  observed,  but  only  as  the 
means  of  forming  a  decorative  whole." 

Less  personal  are  Val  Prinsep's  remarks: 
"  I  have  always  thought  that  behind  the 
*  poseur '  there  was  quite  a  different  Whistler. 
Those  who  saw  him  with  his  mother  were  con- 
scious of  the  fact  that  the  irrepressible  Jimmy 
was  very  human.  No  one  could  have  been  a 
better  son  or  more  attentive  to  his  mother's 
wishes;  after  his  marriage  I  have  heard  that 
the  life  of  this  most  Bohemian  *  poseur '  was 
most  harmonious  and  domestic. 

"  The  grammar  of  expression  was  a  con- 
stant stumbling  block  to  him,  hence  his  slow- 
ness in  producing.  For  let  it  not  be  supposed 
his  pictures,  which  looked  so  simple  in  their 
execution,  were  produced  with  facility.  The 
late  Mr.  Leyland  told  me  that  when  he  was 
sitting  for  his  portrait,  a  standing  full-length, 
Whistler  nearly  cried  over  the  drawing  of  the 
legs  and  bitterly  regretted  that  he  had  not 
learned  something  of  the  construction  of  the 
human  form  during  his  student  years.  He 


224  The  Whistler  Book 

once  spoke  of  himself  as  a  '  soiled  butterfly.' 
Surely  this  is  the  first  recorded  instance  of  a 
butterfly  being  an  aggressive  and  vindictive 
insect.  This  however  was  a  mere  pose  of 
Whistler's,  the  result  of  a  well  considered  de- 
termination to  exalt  himself,  which  he  found 
in  the  long  run  paid,  even  as  all  judicious  pub- 
licity is  said  to  bring  in  a  sum  percentage  of 
profit." 

A.  Ludovici,  a  New  York  dealer,  makes 
quite  a  hero  of  Whistler.  "  He  soon  made  me 
feel  that  I  was  talking  to  an  artist  of  great 
taste  and  refinement,  full  of  love  for  his  work 
and  a  ready  wit,  and,  in  spite  of  an  academic 
training  just  received  in  Paris,  I  became  that 
moment  devoted  to  him  and  his  art.  The  lit- 
tle I  had  seen  of  it  at  the  Grosvenor  engen- 
dered a  desire  to  learn  more  regarding  the  mys- 
terious technique  of  which  he  was  such  an  un- 
doubted master  and  confirmed  my  predilection 
in  favour  of  painting  the  scene  of  life  sur- 
rounding in  preference  to  the  making  up  of 
the  conventional  subject  so  much  in  vogue.  I 
who  knew  him  for  the  last  twenty  years  of  his 
life  always  found  him  most  simple  in  his  tastes, 
firm  in  his  convictions,  generous  and  open- 
hearted  to  those  whose  friendship  he  relied  on 
and  always  ready  to  help  and  oblige  any  one 
in  whom  his  interests  had  been  awakened.  A 


As  His  Friends  Knew  Him       225 

more  brilliant  and  staunch  friend  one  could 
not  wish  to  have  had." 

Also  Alexander  Harrison,  the  marine 
painter,  expresses  himself  in  a  highly  enthusi- 
astic manner:  "  I  have  never  known  a  man 
of  more  sincere  and  genuine  impulse  even  in 
ordinary  human  relations  and  I  am  convinced 
that  no  man  existed  who  could  have  been  more 
easily  controlled  on  lines  of  response  to  a  fair 
and  square  apprehension  of  his  genuine  quali- 
ties. When  off  his  guard  he  was  often  a 
pathetic  kid  and  I  have  spotted  him  in  bash- 
ful moods,  although  it  would  be  hard  to  con- 
vince the  bourgeois  of  this.  Wit,  pathos,  gen- 
tleness, affection,  audacity,  acridity,  tenacity 
were  brought  instantly  to  the  sensitive  surface, 
like  a  spark  by  rough  contact." 

Mr.  Percy  Thomas  says:  "He  was  a  man 
who  could  never  bear  to  be  alone.  Through 
his  own  open  door  strange  people  drifted.  If 
they  amused  him  he  forgave  them,  however 
they  presumed,  and  they  usually  did  succeed. 
Whistler  seldom  painted  men  except  when 
they  came  for  their  portraits,  and  the  models 
drifting  in  and  out  of  the  door  of  Linsey  Row, 
were  mostly  women.  He  liked  to  have  them 
with  him.  Mr.  Thomas  thinks  he  felt  it  nec- 
essary to  see  them  about  his  studio,  for,  as  he 
watched  their  movements  they  would  take  the 


226  The  Whistler  Book 

pose  that  he  wanted,  or  suggest  a  group,  an 
arrangement.  He  lived  at  a  rate  that  would 
have  killed  most  men,  and  at  an  expense  in 
details  that  was  fabulous." 

Walter  Gray  speaks  about  Whistler's 
technique.  "  No  one  can  realize  who  has  not 
watched  Whistler  paint  the  agony  that  his 
work  gave  him.  I  have  seen  him,  after  a  day's 
struggle  with  a  picture  when  things  did  not  go, 
completely  .collapse,  as  from  an  illness.  His 
drawing  coat  gave  him  infinite  trouble. 
Whatever  his  friends  charge  against  him  it 
seems  to  me  that  Whistler's  faults  and  weak- 
nesses sprang  from  an  unbalanced  mentality; 
he  was  a  deseqwlibre,  the  common  defect  of 
great  painters.  Yet,  underneath  all  his  va- 
garies and  eccentricities,  one  felt  that  inde- 
finable yet  unmistakable  being  —  a  gentle- 
man." 

Pennell  gives  a  most  valuable  description  of 
Whistler  as  a  painter.  :'  The  long  nights  of 
observation  of  the  river  were  followed  by  long 
days  of  experiment  in  his  studio.  In  the  end 
he  gave  up  even  making  notes  of  subjects  and 
effects.  It  was  impossible  for  him  to  choose 
and  mix  his  colour  at  night,  and  he  was 
compelled  to  trust  his  memory,  which  he  cul- 
tivated, when  he  painted  his  nocturnes.  He 
reshaped  his  brushes,  usually  heating  them 


As  His  Friends  Knew  Him        227 

over  a  candle,  melting  the  glue  and  pushing 
the  hairs  into  the  form  he  wanted.  Whistler 
told  us  he  used  a  medium  composed  of  opal, 
mastix  and  turpentine.  The  colours  were  ar- 
ranged upon  a  palette,  a  long  oblong  board 
some  two  feet  by  three  with  the  '  Butterfly ' 
inlaid  in  one  corner;  round  the  edge,  sunken 
boxes  for  brushes  and  tubes.  The  palette  was 
laid  upon  the  table;  the  colours  were  placed, 
though,  more  frequently,  there  were  no  pure 
colours  at  all.  Large  quantities  of  different 
tones  of  prevailing  colours  in  the  fashion  and 
his  paints  were  mixed,  and  so  much  medium 
was  used  that  he  called  it  '  sauce.'  Mr. 
Greaves  says,  that  the  nocturnes  were  mostly 
painted  on  very  absorbant  canvas,  sometimes 
on  panels,  sometimes  on  bare  brown  holland 
sized.  For  the  blue  noctures  the  canvas  was 
covered  with  a  red  ground,  or  the  panel  was 
of  mahogany,  which  had  the  advantage  of 
forcing  up  the  blues.  Others  were  done  in  a 
practically  warm  black  ground.  For  the  fire- 
works there  was  a  lead  ground,  or  if  the  night 
was  grey  —  the  canvas  was  grey. 

"So  much '  sauce '  was  used  that,  frequently, 
the  canvas  had  to  be  thrown  flat  on  the  floor 
to  keep  the  whole  thing  from  running  off.  He 
washed  the  liquid  colours  on  the  canvas,  light- 
ing and  darkening  the  tone  as  he  worked.  In 


228  The  Whistler  Book 

many  nocturnes  the  entire  sky  and  water  is 
rendered  with  great  sweeps  of  the  brush  ex- 
actly the  right  tone.  How  many  times  he  may 
have  wiped  out  that  sweeping  tone  is  another 
matter.  Some  one  remembers  seeing  the  noc- 
turnes set  out  along  the  garden  wall  to  bake  in 
the  sun,  sometimes  they  dried  out  like  body 
colour  in  the  most  unexpected  manner.  He 
had  no  recipe,  no  system. 

"  In  his  painting  it  was  surprising  to  see 
how  much  he  accomplished  in  a  short  time. 
He  would  decide  upon  any  local  tone,  putting 
it  on  with  five  or  six  big  strokes,  any  variation 
of  tones  would  be  added  in  the  same  way.  In 
a  given  time  he  would  put  down  more  facts 
than  any  man  I  ever  knew.  In  the  beginning 
of  a  pastel  he  drew  his  subject  crisply  and  care- 
fully in  outline  with  black  crayon  upon  one  of 
the  sheets  of  tinted  paper  which  fitted  the  gen- 
eral colour  of  the  motives.  A  few  touches 
with  sky  tinted  pastels  produced  a  remarkable 
effect.  He  never  was  in  a  hurry  in  his  work, 
always  careful  and  accomplished  much. 
Every  subject  contrived  some  problem  for 
nature  which  he  wished  to  convey  on  canvas.'* 

The  portraits  painted  and  etched  by  him- 
self and  various  artist  friends  also  comment 
favourably  upon  his  personality.  William 
Michael  Rossetti,  in  his  diary  of  February  5, 


As  His  Friends  Knew  Him  229 

1857,  mentions  seeing  in  Whistler's  studio  "  a 
clever,  vivacious  portrait  of  himself,"  believed 
to  be  that  belonging  to  the  late  George 
McCullough  and  which  appears  as  the  front- 
piece  to  Pennell's  book.  Another  portrait 
sketch  of  this  period  or  a  little  later  was  shown 
at  the  exhibition  at  the  Metropolitan  Museum 
of  Art  in  1910. 

Another  portrait  sketch  can  be  seen  in  the 
Freer  collection. 

In  1874  Whistler  planned  a  big  picture 
similar  to  Fantin-Latour's  "  Hommage  a  De- 
lacroix, only  less  serious  and  more  eccentric  in 
conception.  Whistler  was  to  be  the  centre 
figure  and  to  be  surrounded  by  the  "  Woman 
in  White  "  on  a  couch  and  a  kimonoed  lady 
walking  about  the  studio,  while  Albert  Moore 
and  Fantin-Latour  were  chosen  to  serve  as 
black  notes.  One  of  the  studies,  Whistler  in 
his  studio,  is  illustrated  in  Pennell.  A  chalk 
drawing  belonging  to  Thomas  Way  is  likewise 
in  the  same  book.  There  are  three  etched  por- 
traits in  existence.  A  very  early  one  dated 
1859,  the  "  Whistler  with  the  White  Lock," 
which  appeared  as  frontispiece  in  Ralph 
Thomas'  "  Catalogue  of  Etchings  and  Dry- 
points  of  Whistler,"  and  an  etching  very  sim- 
ilar to  the  1867  portrait,  dated  1874. 

In  1894  he  was  painting  a  portrait  of  him- 


230  The  Whistler  Book 

self  in  a  white  jacket  which,  according  to  the 
Pennells,  was  changed  into  a  dark  coat  after 
the  death  of  his  wife.  A  full  length  portrait 
in  long  overcoat  was  in  the  Paris  Exposition 
of  1900,  under  the  title  of  "  Brown  and  Gold." 
Another  half  length  is  known  to  belong  to 
George  W.  Vanderbilt. 

A  dry-point  by  Helleu,  drawn  in  1878,  has 
many  admirers,  but  is  rather  superficial  as  a 
characterization.  The  most  important  por- 
trait is  the  Mephistophilean  interpretation  by 
Boldini,  painted  1897  and  shown  at  the  Expo- 
sition in  1900.  But  I  almost  prefer  a  certain 
photograph  which  shows  him  with  top-hat, 
and  overcoat  over  his  shoulder.  It  reminds 
me  of  the  glimpse  I  caught  of  him  that  after- 
noon, in  Paris  years  ago,  when  I  was  still  care- 
free and  had  not  the  slightest  idea  that  I  would 
one  day  write  a  book  about  the  man  I  passed 
so  nonchalantly. 

The  few  paragraphs  that  are  cited  in  this 
chapter  may  not  do  his  personality  full  justice, 
but  they  must  suffice.  A  personality  can  not 
be  recalled  from  the  shades.  We  can  only  pro- 
duce a  mental  image,  and  an  abundance  of 
notes  would  only  confuse  the  outlines.  His 
work  remains,  that  is  the  principal  thing. 
Even  the  greatest  painters  of  the  past  are 
mere  ghosts  and  visions  to  us.  And  although 


As  His  Friends  Knew  Him        231 

Whistler,  more  than  any  other  modem  painter, 
has  the  chance  of  marching  down  posterity,  un- 
forgotten  and  wreathed  in  glory,  a  curious 
high-seasoned  personality  not  unlike  Ben- 
venuto  Cellini,  the  author  of  these  lines  must 
refrain,  as  he  can  add  nothing  new  or  original. 

Prophets  or  seers,  call  them  what  you  will, 
in  the  arts  or  in  the  sciences,  must  of  necessity 
be  few  and  far  between,  and  in  advance  of 
their  age.  Whistler  is  to  me  one  of  these,  in 
his  absolute  and  genuine  love  of  his  profession, 
for  the  resolve  to  win  out  at  any  cost,  for  his 
conquests  in  various  realms  of  art  and  the  tri- 
umph of  ideas  they  represent. 

I  admire  his  colossal  vanity  and  egotism, 
but,  more  than  all,  I  admire  him  for  the  seri- 
ousness with  which  he  took  himself  and  his 
business  of  being  a  painter.  It  is  so  rare  a 
quality.  Velasquez  was  so  much  of  a  solemn 
cavalier  that  he  was  almost  ashamed  of  being 
a  painter.  It  offended  him  to  be  reminded  of 
his  profession.  It  was  a  serious  sport  to  him, 
but  only  a  sport.  He  was  like  Goethe:  a  dis- 
tinguished and  conscientious  amateur.  Their 
exalted  position  in  life  enabled  them  to  treat 
art  with  such  ease  and  condescension.  But 
Whistler  had  to  climb  to  the  very  heights 
from  which  they  started,  and  all  the  battles 
and  victories,  struggles  and  temporary  defeats, 


232  The  Whistler  Book 

magnificent  successes  and  lavish  praises  were 
the  result  of  his  personal  efforts.  Whistler 
needed,  and  had  the  true  autolatry  of  the 
artist ;  he  could  conceive  genius  only  under  an 
artistic  guise;  he  entertained  the  absolute 
faith  that  the  faculty  of  painting  is  some- 
thing so  hugely  superior  to  anything  else  that 
it  confers  a  sort  of  sacred  character  on  its 
owner.  And  it  is  for  this  wholesome  artistic 
seriousness,  this  salutary  egotism,  that  I  ad- 
mire Whistler,  the  man. 


CHAPTER   XII 

THE   STORY   OF  THE   BEAUTIFUL 

WHO  knew  the  errant  life  of  the  highway, 
of  the  starlit  desert  and  windy  mountain  slopes 
better  than  the  story-teller  of  old,  who  wan- 
dered from  town  to  village,  from  camp  to 
solitary  tent,  all  over  the  face  of  the  earth, 
telling  his  simple,  tales  to  those  who  cared  to 
listen?  He  was  the  wayfarer  who  lived  in  his 
life  the  Odyssey  of  the  eternal  Wanderer,  and 
whose  words  reflected  in  quaint  imaginative 
excursions  the  adventures  of  strange  men  and 
women  he  had  met  in  lonely  forests  and 
crowded  city  streets. 

Every  nomadic  tribe,  every  nation,  every 
country,  has  had  its  singer  of  songs,  its  chanter 
of  religious  hymns,  its  troubadour,  its  vagrom 
poet,  some  story-teller  of  the  beautiful.  They 
have  vanished,  and  the  story  is  now  repeated 
by  the  professional  poet  and  artist.  He  no 
longer  treads  the  highways  and  the  listeners 
no  longer  offer  him  the  hospitality  of  a  night's 
shelter.  He  lives  the  life  of  the  large  cities; 

233 


234  The  Whistler  Book 

he  hastens  from  place  to  place,  he  mingles  with 
the  crowd  but  passes  unseen  as  nobody  will 
listen  to  his  stories.  More  than  ever  is  he  the 
vagrom  man,  unless  he  tells  his  story  of  the 
Beautiful  in  such  a  novel,  fascinating  way  that 
Art,  "  the  whimsical  goddess,"  will  open  the 
book  of  life  and  inscribe  his  name.  Then  his 
townspeople,  his  nation,  a  whole  continent, 
the  entire  world  may  claim  him. 

Whistler  travelled  many  highways  and  lo, 
when  he  arrived  at  the  age  of  sixty  a  weary, 
restless  wanderer  in  the  realm  of  art,  three 
nations  —  England,  France  and  America  — 
claimed  him  as  their  own. 

Born  in  America,  obtaining  his  education 
partly  in  America  and  partly  in  St.  Peters- 
burg, Russia,  living  the  rest  of  his  life  in  Eu- 
rope, dividing  his  time  almost  equally  between 
Paris  and  London,  he  was  a  cosmopolitan  in 
the  true  sense  of  the  word,  and  that  is  what  he 
wished  to  be  considered.  He  loved  England 
and  loved  France,  but  he  felt  quite  indifferent 
towards  America.  In  Paris  he  had  spent  his 
student  years,  and  he  was  drawn  to  this  city 
by  many  bonds  of  attachments  and  friendships 
that  lasted  for  life.  And  it  was  France  who 
gave  him  that  final  great  recognition  of  his 
genius  when  it  purchased  '  The  Artist's 
Mother  "  portrait  for  the  Luxembourg,  and 


The  Story  of  the  Beautiful         235 

made  him  an  officer  of  the  Legion  of  Honour. 
In  England,  on  the  other  hand,  he  fought  the 
great  battles  of  his  life  for  social  as  well  as 
artistic  recognition.  In  England  he  married, 
and  was  for  many  years  one  of  the  most  con- 
spicuous characters  of  London  art  and  social 
life. 

America  really  did  nothing  for  him,  and  he 
did  nothing  for  America.  He  never  came  back 
to  America  —  during  forty-eight  years  —  after 
leaving  it  as  a  young  man  of  twenty-one.  He 
never  exhibited  in  America  until  his  name  as 
a  painter  was  one  of  the  best  known  in  Europe. 
He  even  preferred  to  exhibit  his  work  with 
English  artists  in  international  exhibitions. 
We  all  remember  the  General  Hawkins  inci- 
dent in  1889.  Whistler  only  became  known 
to  America  after  his  death  through  memorial 
exhibitions. 

Now,  of  course,  we  like  to  claim  him,  and 
do  so  with  ostentation.  Expatriots  are  al- 
ways claimed  by  their  native  country  when 
they  have  achieved  success  or  performed  some 
remarkable  act  that  has  aroused  the  wonder 
of  nations.  Nobody  cares  whether  Mr.  Jack 
Johnson  lived  on  the  Place  Monceau,  or  died 
on  the  Riviera. 

To  the  analytical  mind  it  is  of  little  conse- 
quence whether  he  will  go  down  in  history  as 


236  The  Whistler  Book 

an  American,  English  or  Frenchman,  as  he 
was  one  of  the  great  artists  of  the  nineteenth 
century  with  an  international  significance.  In 
the  case  of  artists  like  Burne-Jones,  Israels, 
Boldini,  Fortuny,  Lenbach,  Segantini,  it  may 
be  of  more  importance,  as  they  are  local  talents. 

Whistler's  predilections  were  natural.  He 
was  too  shrewd  a  promoter  of  his  own  artistic 
welfare  not  to  make  the  best  of  this  dispute  of 
nations.  He  could  not  have  prevented  it  any- 
howjr  and  the  question  of  his  nationality  will  be 
disputed  for  many  years  to  come.  Of  course, 
one  can  simply  settle  the  matter  by  saying  that 
as  he  was  born  in  America  of  American 
parents,  he  is  an  American. 

The  English  differ;  they  choose  to  do  in 
this  case  what  we  have  always  done  with  our 
immigrants.  After  a  person  has  lived  for  any 
length  of  time  in  the  country  we  make  him  a 
citizen  and  consider  him  an  American.  How 
about  Carl  Schurz,  General  Siegel  and  Roeb- 
ling,  the  bridge  builder?  They  were  all  born 
abroad  and  yet  their  names  are  inscribed  on  our 
roll  of  honour.  Of  what  nationality  was  Laf  ca- 
dio  Hearn,  who,  born  on  the  Ionian  Islands, 
of  Irish  and  Greek  parentage,  living  for  years 
in  New  Orleans  and  New  York,  finally  selected 
Japan  as  the  country  of  his  choice,  where  he 
lived  the  remainder  of  his  life  and  was  buried? 


The  Story  of  the  Beautiful         237 

And  yet  we  class  him  as  an  American  writer. 
It  seems  that  the  party  most  concerned  in  it; 
the  personality  itself,  should  decide  the  ques- 
tion. Hearn  wished  to  be  considered  a  Japa- 
nese. We  are  not  quite  sure  what  Whistler's 
opinion  was  on  the  matter.  He  claimed  to  be 
a  cosmopolitan.  But  that  is  no  answer,  as  it 
does  not  settle  the  dispute.  It  leaves  others 
to  settle  it,  and  the  trouble  starts  anew. 

There  is  another  much  subtler  point,  open 
to  argument.  Is  his  art  in  any  sense  Ameri- 
can? Has  it  a  flavour,  a  peculiarity  of  its  own, 
that  could  be  derived  from  any  source  except 
that  of  American  birth  and  parentage?  To 
this  question  I  answer  emphatically  yes.  True 
enough  his  subject  matter  was,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  "  L'Americaine  "  and  a  few  portraits, 
strictly  Continental.  But  the  spirit  was  strictly 
Japanese  and  —  American.  Or,  I  would 
rather  say,  his  form  of  art  conception  was 
Oriental,  but  the  essence,  the  under-rhythm  of 
his  personality,  was  after  all  American.  He 
was  somewhat  of  a  snob  and  a  precieux,  like 
his  friend  Comte  Montesquiou.  He  had  all 
the  polished  manners,  the  spirit,  the  grace  of 
a  foreign  aristocrat  and  yet  he  was  neither  a 
Frenchman  nor  an  Englishman  in  his  habits 
or  views  on  art.  He  remained  an  alien,  as  any 
man  in  a  foreign  climate  must  remain  to  some 


238  The  Whistler  Book 

extent,  when  the  change  of  domicile  is  made  as 
late  as  the  twentieth  year. 

His  wit  and  sarcasm  was  American.  It  was 
not  pointless,  neither  brusque  nor  frivolous  but 
it  was  at  times  flat  like  Mark  Twain's.  His 
self -exploitation  revealed  the  shrewdness  of  an 
intellectual  Barnum.  His  attitude  in  society 
was  that  of  a  "  Yankee  at  King  Arthur's 
Court."  Besides  there  are  vague  traits  in  his 
art  which  reveal  the  premises  of  his  origin. 
His  women,  "The  Fur  Jacket,"  "Lady 
Archibald  Campbell,"  "  L'Americaine,"  and 
"  Miss  Alexander,"  have  a  natural  finesse, 
direct  grace  and  elegant  frailty  that  can  be 
found  nowhere  but  in  America.  His  power 
of  adaptability,  his  disregard  for  ancient  cul- 
ture for  modern  purposes,  his  technical  fanat- 
icism, his  adventurous  tastes  and  theories,  all 
have  an  American  physiognomy.  If  there  is 
anything  that  will  make  him  an  American  it 
is  the  aptitude  for  labour,  free  association,  and 
practical  adaptation. 

That  he  left  America  never  to  return  again 
is  no  compliment  to  our  country,  but  he,  no 
doubt,  acted  wisely.  If  we  remember  the  sad 
unsuccessful  lives  of  Whitman  and  Poe,  we 
shun  to  think  what  might  have  become  of 
Whistler  had  he  stayed  on  these  shores.  He, 
no  doubt,  would  have  become  one  of  our  best 


ARRANGEMENT  IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE:    "  I/AMERICAINE." 


The  Story  of  the  Beautiful         239 

painters,  but  he  would  never  have  become  the 
Whistler  we  know  to-day. 

Like  all  our  painters  of  merit,  Fuller,  Ab- 
bott Thayer,  Winslow  Homer,  Homer  Mar- 
tin, to  mention  but  a  few,  he  would  have  re- 
tired into  solitude,  he  would  have  become  a 
hermit  at  a  much  earlier  stage  in  his  career. 
In  England  it  was  revolt,  fight  and  victory; 
here  it  would  have  been  stagnation.  There 
would  have  been  no  fight  because  there  would 
have  been  nobody  to  fight  with. 

When  a  man  is  young,  he  is  strong  because 
he  is  impulsive  and  because  he  has  absolute 
faith  in  his  beliefs.  As  he  grows  older  his 
views  broaden,  he  is  not  quite  as  certain  of  him- 
self, and  there  will  come  a  time  when  he  will 
vacillate  from  one  point  to  another,  trying  his 
faculties  in  different  directions  and  searching 
for  the  final  path  on  which  his  inborn  talent 
may  blossom  forth  in  fullest  strength  and 
beauty.  This  is  the  time  when  a  man  needs 
encouragement,  some  patron  no  matter  how 
stingy,  some  order  no  matter  how  humble, 
some  friends  and  supporters  who  champion  his 
cause  —  or  he  will  succumb.  He  may  not  give 
up  the  battle,  but  his  development  will  be 
marred  and  retarded  for  years. 

American  life  is  not  particularly  kind  to 
budding  geniuses,  either  in  the  period  of  revolt 


240  The  Whistler  Book 

or  of  later  evolution.  There  is  no  gainsaying 
we  are  a  very  material  race  just  now.  And  it 
is  nowise  peculiar  that  it  should  be  so.  We  do 
not  expect  much  from  Australia  and  Canada 
in  the  way  of  art.  Why  should  we  of  the 
United  States,  where  there  are  vast  territories 
in  very  much  the  same  primitive  condition  as 
in  other  emigrant  countries?  Of  course  there 
are  certain  parts  and  centres  in  this  country 
which  can  boast  of  a  culture  dating  back  a  few 
centuries,  but  the  population  has  always  lived 
in  turmoil  and  conflict.  Self-assertion  and 
self -improvement  are  the  ideals  of  any  man 
who  has  changed  his  domicile,  in  the  one  hope 
to  better  his  material  welfare.  In  a  country 
which  is  so  vast  as  ours  and  which  has  at  times 
an  increase  of  ten  thousand  aliens  a  week,  the 
national  pride  in  intellectual  accomplishments 
cannot  run  high. 

All  that  wealth  can  do  is  done  at  present. 
We  have  numerous  private  collections  of  rare 
excellence  and  will  have  National  Galleries 
and  Kensington  Museums  in  due  time,  but,  as 
Whistler  has  said,  art  is  not  a  matter  of  edu- 
cation, or  of  royal,  civic  or  municipal  encour- 
agement. It  is  a  growth  and  the  soil  must  be 
ripe  for  it.  No  doubt,  in  due  time  collectors 
will  divert  some  of  their  attention  from  the 
battered  relics  of  past  ages  to  the  quite  as 


The  Story  of  the  Beautiful         241 

admirable  productions  of  their  contempora- 
ries. It  would  be  pleasant  to  find  that  people 
cease  the  worship  of  dubious  pictures  by  Old 
Masters  as  the  one  certain  and  infallible  proof 
of  enlightment. 

The  artist  of  to-day  has  to  subsist  on  the 
Spartan  principle;  he  has  either  to  do  or  to 
die.  These  are  no  stimulants  to  inspiration. 
He  has  to  dig  it  all  out  of  himself.  That  en- 
genders martyrdom.  And  very  few,  particu- 
larly those  equipped  with  lesser  talent,  are 
willing  to  give  up  a  half-way  respectable  ex- 
istence for  a  life  in  a  garret  and  a  long  wait 
until  fame  knocks  at  the  door.  Nearly  all  the 
great  European  artists  had  their  struggle  and 
lived  in  hovels.  The  American  is  less  willing 
to  enter  upon  such  a  precarious  existence,  as  he 
realizes  that  if  he  accepts  it,  he  may  have  to 
stay  in  a  garret  until  the  end  of  his  life.  Amer- 
ican artists  do  not  assist  each  other.  Each  goes 
his  own  way,  partly  under  the  stress  of  condi- 
tions, because  the  vastness  of  the  country  and 
larger  towns  permits  no  closer  association ;  and 
partly  by  choice,  by  personal  inclination  or  pro- 
fessional reasons.  There  is  but  little  intellect- 
ual intercourse.  The  atmospheric  conditions 
are  just  as  beautiful  here  as  anywhere.  And 
so  are  the  subjects  equally  beautiful  and  plenti- 
ful. It  would  be  ridiculous  to  deny  it.  Yet 


242  The  Whistler  Book 

it  takes  courage  to  be  a  pioneer.  It  needs  lei- 
sure, some  incentive  and  sympathy.  No  man 
is  inexhaustible.  He  needs  some  encourage- 
ment from  outside;  and  if  it  fails  to  come  he 
will  grow  indifferent.  He  may  open  up  a  res- 
taurant, or  become  an  illustrator  on  a  comic 
paper.  Deserters  of  this  kind  may  not  rep- 
resent an  irreparable  loss,  as  they  were  never 
ensign-bearers,  nor  ever  stood  in  the  firing  line. 

"  They  were  not  carved  as  from  iron  or  wood, 
Cut  with  an  axe,  or  hammered  with  sledge, 
Till  the  man  shows  strong  and  good." 

as  Daniel  Dawson  sang,  another  young  poet 
who  fell  by  the  wayside. 

Our  conditions  are  not  conducive  to  the  evo- 
lution and  exploitation  of  a  genius.  Graft  and 
prohibition  laws,  whose  evil  influences  are  felt 
in  all  strata  of  society,  also  injure  artistic  prog- 
ress, if  not  directly,  surely  by  the  stress  of  pub- 
lic opinion.  Such  conditions  would  no  doubt 
have  retarded  the  progress  of  even  a  man  like 
Whistler  for  years.  If  a  man  has  not  the 
means  to  sip  his  demi-tasse  at  Florian's,  in 
Venice  on  the  piazza,  he  can  not  make  any 
etchings  or  lithographs  of  the  Campanile. 
And  if  a  man  cannot  afford  to  buy  plates  and 
an  etching  press  he  cannot  make  any  etchings 


The  Story  of  the  Beautiful         243 

at  all.  And  that  is  the  fate  of  hundreds  of 
artists  in  our  larger  cities. 

No,  to  go  to  Paris  and  then  to  find  another 
congenial  abode  in  Europe,  to  settle  there,  to 
live  his  own  life,  and  to  do  in  art  what  he 
wanted  to  do  was  the  wisest  move  Whistler 
ever  made.  It  helped  him  to  expand  and  to 
mature  the  great  talent  that  was  slumbering 
within  him,  ever  since  he  stared,  lost  in  won- 
der, at  the  Velasquez  of  the  Hermitage  at  St. 
Petersburg. 

Whistler  admired  the  Greek  as  much  as 
anybody,  but  this  emotional  reverence  did  not 
hinder  him  from  smashing  some  traditions 
of  ancient  beauty  to  pieces.  Greek  art  was 
so  perfect  that  for  centuries  no  artist  could 
escape  its  influence.  All  the  Old  Masters 
were  nursed  on  the  marble  breasts  of  Gre- 
cian goddesses.  In  all  art  schools  the  white 
corpses  of  plaster  cast  facsimiles  were  wor- 
shipped on  bended  knee.  The  pupils  never 
dared  to  glance  about.  They  did  not  see  the 
beauty  of  the  world  around  them.  They  could 
perceive  it  only  through  Greek  conventions. 
This  had  to  cease.  There  was  no  life  blood 
in  these  artificial  constructions.  But  tradition 
was  so  deeply  ingrained  in  Western  sesthet- 
icisms  that  it  lingered  on  for  centuries,  until 
Manet  entered  the  studio,  opened  the  windows, 


244  The  Whistler  Book 

let  in  the  light,  and  Monet  took  the  young 
students  by  the  arm,  pushed  them  into  the  open 
air  and  led  them  to  the  meadows  and  riverside, 
and  the  open  road. 

Whistler,  in  the  meanwhile,  had  scoured  the 
whole  horizon  of  art,  and  beheld  a  new  dawn 
in  the  East.  There  he  saw  an  old  civilization, 
as  deep  and  broad  as  ours.  It  was  just  at  a 
stage  when  modern  materialism  had  begun  to 
wash  out  some  of  its  finest  colours.  Art  was 
deteriorating  in  the  East  under  the  stress  of 
missionaries  and  merchants.  An  era  of  manu- 
facture had  set  in.  Could  not  the  noble,  un- 
selfish spirit  of  old  Japan  be  kept  alive,  re- 
vived, —  amalgamated  with  our  art,  and  be 
made  to  pour  new  life  into  our  valiant  dreams 
of  beauty! 

You  remember  what  Whistler  said  of  the 
primitive  artist.  The  words  are  worth  repeat- 
ing: 

"  In  the  beginning,  man  went  forth  each 
day  —  some  to  do  battle,  some  to  the  chase, 
others,  again,  to  dig  and  delve  in  the  fields  — 
all  that  they  might  gain  and  live,  or  lose  and 
die.  Until  there  was  found  among  them  one, 
differing  from  the  rest,  whose  pursuits  at- 
tracted him  not,  and  so  he  stayed  by  the  tents 
with  the  women,  and  traced  strange  devices 
with  a  burnt  stick  upon  a  gourd. 


The  Story  of  the  Beautiful         245 

;'  This  man,  who  took  not  joy  in  the  ways 
of  his  brethren  —  who  cared  not  for  conquest, 
and  fretted  in  the  field  —  this  designer  of. 
quaint  patterns  —  this  deviser  of  the  beautiful, 
who  perceived  in  Nature  about  him  curious 
curvings,  as  faces  are  seen  in  the  fire,  this 
dreamer  apart,  was  the  first  artist. 

"  And  when,  from  the  field  from  afar,  there 
came  back  the  people,  they  took  the  gourd  — 
and  drank  from  out  of  it. 

"  And  presently  there  came  to  this  man  an- 
other —  and  in  time  others  —  of  like  nature, 
chosen  by  the  Gods  —  and  so  they  worked  to- 
gether arid  soon  they  fashioned  from  the  mois- 
tened earth  forms  resembling  the  gourd.  And 
with  the  power  of  creation,  the  heirloom  of  the 
artist,  presently  they  went  forth  beyond  the 
slovenly  suggestion  of  Nature,  and  the  first 
vase  was  born,  in  beautiful  proportions. 

"And  the  toilers  tilled  and  were  athirst; 
and  the  heroes  returned  from  fresh  victories, 
to  rejoice  and  to  feast;  and  all  drank  alike 
from  the  artist's  goblets,  fashioned  cunningly, 
taking  no  note  the  while  of  the  craftsman's 
pride,  and  understanding  not  his  glory  in  his 
work;  drinking  at  the  cup,  not  from  choice, 
not  from  a  consciousness  that  it  was  beauti- 
ful, but  because,  forsooth,  there  was  none 
other." 


246         •      The  Whistler  Book 

The  art  of  the  past  has  done  its  work.  The 
white  gods  are  worshipped  no  longer  in  the 
sacred  woods  and  the  Old  Masters  have  lost 
much  of  their  spiritual  glamour.  But  no  need 
to  mourn  their  loss,  they  will  remain  beautiful. 
We  will  always  look  with  awe  and  wonder  at 
the  figures  of  the  Parthenon  frieze.  We  will 
never  cease  to  love  the  Primitifs.  We  will 
continue  to  make  pilgrimages  to  the  Prado  and 
the  Sistine  Chapel.  And  Rembrandt  will  as 
heretofore  receive  the  adoration  of  mankind. 

Yet  the  new  art  will  be  different.  It  has  to 
be  different  to  equal  the  old.  It  will  be  at- 
tuned to  the  moods  of  the  modern  mind.  It 
will  have  new  accents.  It  will  bear  the  ana- 
lytical and  complex  aspects  of  our  time.  It 
will  be  subtler,  more  fragile,  perhaps,  but  it 
will  drive  deeper  into  our  soul  than  the  cold 
correctness  of  older  forms  and  emblems. 

It  was  Whistler  who  pointed  out  that  a  large 
picture  is  a  contradiction,  that  a  picture  like 
Raphael's  '  Transfiguration  "  or  Veronese's 
"  Marriage  of  Cana  "  are  merely  combinations 
of  smaller  pictures,  drearily  linked  together  by 
stretches  of  negligible  paint.  The  demands  of 
explanation,  of  form  and  composition,  drag  in, 
every  now  and  then,  lines  and  colour  notes 
which  are  merely  padding.  They  are  the 
painter's  concessions  to  the  old  rules  of  com- 


THE    FIDDLER    (ETCHING). 


The  Story  of  the  Beautiful         247 

plexity.  The  modern  mind  demands  a  con- 
centrated vision.  Painting  must  appeal  again 
directly  to  our  finer  sensibilities,  speak  to  us 
without  interference  of  moral  or  literary  con- 
siderations. 

It  was  Whistler  who  taught  that  painting 
was  a  science  of  colour  manipulation.  That 
the  first  requisite  of  a  painter  is  to  know  how 
to  paint.  Everybody  can  learn  how  to  draw 
and  how  to  handle  a  brush.  To  explore  the 
secrets  of  colour,  to  discern  their  influences 
upon  each  other,  to  render  them  atmospheric 
and  musical,  that  alone  is  of  vital  importance. 
For  painting  should  be  a  visual  language  that 
speaks  directly  and  distinctly  to  the  cultured 
mind.  How  many  of  the  younger  American 
painters  (alas,  our  younger  men  have  all 
passed  the  threshold  of  thirty  if  not  of  forty) 
really  know  their  metier?  Henri,  Reid,  Luks, 
Tarbell,  Hawthorne,  Clews,  R.  E.  Miller,  Lu- 
cas, who  else?  That  is  why  Whistler's  art  is  so 
exceptional  and  masterful.  There  may  be  other 
methods  just  as  good  as  his;  Monticelli,  Maris, 
Mancini,  Segantini,  Renoir,  Cezanne,  etc.,  all 
have  their  peculiar  way,  but  I  believe  that 
Whistler  got  nearest  to  the  pulse  beat  of  our 
age.  Resolutely  and  tranquil,  he  carried  an 
idea  to  its  utmost  logical  conclusion,  after  once 
accepting  its  particular  point  of  view.  And 


248  The  Whistler  Book 

that  is  why  everything  he  did  bears  an  unmis- 
takable stamp  of  his  own. 

It  was  Whistler  who  proved  that  art  was 
synonymous  with  hard  work.  Few  painters 
will  follow  his  example  and  spend  a  whole  day 
trying  to  put  in  a  high-light  or  to  find  the  right 
place  for  a  butterfly's  wing,  and  go  home  at 
night  satisfied  with  having  made  a  few  brush- 
strokes after  altering  them  a  hundred  times, 
but  these  commercial  travellers  of  art  will 
never  know  the  painter's  pure  delight,  the  con- 
templation of  life,  the  aspiration  to  perfection, 
the  lifting  of  beauty  out  of  the  dead  pigment. 
Such  worship  of  art,  such  absolute  disinterest- 
edness, such  fidelity  to  painting  cannot  be  too 
highly  esteemed. 

And  it  was  Whistler  who  proclaimed  that 
art  cannot  be  taught  but  must  be  an  inborn 
gift,  that  everything  can  be  acquired  by  long 
practice  save  that  one  supernatural  quality  of 
genius  which  alone  can  transform  a  painter 
into  a  great  artist.  What  is  there  in  these  pic- 
tures produced  every  year,  here  and  in  Paris 
and  everywhere?  Portraits,  landscapes,  ordi- 
nary delineations  of  prosaic  scenes  that  may 
be  painted  with  considerable  skill  and  that  may 
look  pretty  enough,  but  that  are  absolutely  in- 
capable of  evoking  a  fine  and  subtle  emotion. 
This,  the  men  upon  whose  shoulders  the  black 


The  Story  of  the  Beautiful         249 

mantle  of  Whistler's  muse  may  fall,  must  real- 
ize, that  it  is  a  vain  endeavour  —  as  futile  as 
cloud  shadows  on  a  summer  day  —  unless  they 
know  that  they  can  hold  her,  "  the  capricious 
jade,"  as  they  possess  the  magic  wand  to  call 
her. 

This  was  the  spirit  in  which  Whistler  con- 
ceived art.  It  had  long  faded  out  of  Euro- 
pean art.  It  was  rapidly  deteriorating  in  the 
Orient.  Why  could  not  a  single  man,  even 
with  the  whole  world  against  him,  live  up  to 
some  big  ideal!  To  be  an  artist  simply  for 
one's  own  gratification.  To  fashion  something 
beautiful  simply  because  one  feels  like  doing  it. 
To  purify  one's  mind  by  projecting  into  life 
what  is  accumulated  there  by  some  curious 
grace  of  nature.  Whistler  undertook  the  task, 
and  created  a  new  art  form  that  may  be  des- 
tined to  rule  art  for  the  next  thousand  years. 

A  new  art  form  is  always  the  expression  of 
a  new  spirit.  In  painting  the  new  spirit  is 
rebellious.  In  addition  it  is  emphatically  indi- 
vidualistic. It  is  opposed  to  previous  schools 
and  academic  training.  It  aims  at  attaining 
the  maximum  of  personal  intensity.  The  exi- 
gencies of  the  classic  style  —  the  necessity  of 
a  literary  subject  —  at  once  stay  the  free  use 
of  the  brush  and  hamper  the  virile  expression 
of  technique.  Why  not  give  to  art  a  new 


250  The  Whistler  Book 

twist,  graft  upon  it  a  new  beauty,  enliven  it 
with  a  purer  flame,  that  it  may  shine  forth 
again  in  its  old  pristine  beauty! 

The  Western  mind  still  rebels  that  this  res- 
urrection should  come  from  the  East,  through 
another  race.  Even  the  most  ardent  disciples 
of  Whistler  make  little  of  the  Japanese  influ- 
ence. It  is  still  a  question  of  conquest.  In 
my  mind,  as  in  that  of  many  of  our  foremost 
artists,  there  is  not  the  slightest  doubt  that 
the  Eastern  idea  will  win  out  and  that  a  new 
era,  as  important  as  that  of  Greek  influence, 
will  set  in.  The  meaning  of  the  old  symbols 
has  faded  and  it  is  the  artist's  duty  to  create 
new  ones. 

Whistler  disclosed  new  harmonies  of  tone, 
of  arrangement,  and  visual  poetry,  all  of  them 
sensitive  and  expressive,  using  blacks  and 
browns  and  a  touch  of  vivid  colour  or  a  flare 
of  white,  and  thereby  succeeded  in  stirring  the 
depth  of  our  nature.  His  art  has  a  tender 
pallor,  tones  purposely  deadened,  faded  tints 
like  those  on  Japanese  screens  of  old  feudal 
castles,  of  a  wondrous  harmony  and  softness. 
Details,  discreetly  accentuated,  allow  the  en- 
semble to  retain  its  full  importance,  and  against 
dark  background,  in  soft  neutral  tints,  figures 
that  the  painter  desires  to  bring  out  show  with 
an  illusion  of  life  truly  magical.  Herein  con- 


The  Story  of  the  Beautiful         251 

sists  the  last  great  pictorial  invention;  it  is 
through  this  that  painting  still  has  the  faculty 
to  powerfully  address  the  modern  mind. 

He  said  in  his  "Ten  O '  Clock  "  that  the 
story  of  the  beautiful  was  complete.  He 
surely,  like  Monet,  has  added  a  valuable  chap- 
ter. He,  in  his  own  words,  was  "  one  of  the 
chosen  —  with  the  mark  of  the  gods  upon 
him  —  who  had  to  continue  what  had  gone 
before." 


THE  END. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 

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BELL,  ARTHUR  G.  and  NANCY:  "  J.  McNeill  Whistler 
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BELL,  NANCY  E.  (Mrs.  Arthur  Bell) :  "  James  Mc- 
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(Miniatures  Series  of  Painters.) 

BELL,  NANCY  E. :  "  Representative  Painters  of  the 
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BENEDITE,  LEONCE:  "  L'oeuvre  de  J.  McNeill  Whis- 
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253 


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of  Works  of  J.  McNeill  Whistler.  February, 
1904." 

Cox,  KENYON:  "  Old  Masters  and  New."  New  York, 
1903. 

DENNIS,  G.  R. :  "  Bryan's  Dictionary  of  Painters  and 
Engravers."  London,  1905. 

DURET,  THEODORE:  "  Histoire  de  J.  McNeill  Whistler 
et  de  son  ceuvre."  Paris,  1904. 

DURET,  THEODORE:  "  Critique d'avant-garde."  Paris, 
1885. 

EDDY,  ARTHUR  JEROME  :  "  Recollections  and  Impres- 
sions of  J.  McNeill  Whistler."  London,  1903. 

FORSYTHE,  WALTER  GREENWOOD,  HARRISON  and 
JOSEPH  LEROY,  ED.  :  "  Guide  to  the  Study  of 
James  McNeill  Whistler."  Albany,  1895  (Uni- 
versity of  the  State  of  New  York). 


Bibliography  255 


GALLATIN,  ALBERT  E. :  "  Whistler,  Notes  and  Foot- 
notes and  other  Memoranda."  New  York,  1907. 

GOODSPEED,  CHARLES  E. :  "  Whistler  Art  Dicta  and 
Other  Essays."  Boston,  1904. 

GOUPIL  AND  Co.:  "  Portfolio  of  Twenty-four  Repro- 
ductions." 1898. 

GROLIER  CLUB,  NEW  YORK:  "  The  Etched  Works  of 
Whistler,"  Compiled  by  Edward  G.  Kennedy, 
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HOLLINGWORTH,  C.  J.  H. :  "  The  Peacock  Room." 
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HARTMANN,  SADAKJCHI:  "  A  History  of  American 
Art,"  Vol.  2.  Boston,  1902. 

HUBBARD,  ELBERT:  "Whistler."  East  Aurora,  N.  Y., 
1903  (Little  Journey  Series). 

HUYSMAN,  J.  K.:  "Certains."  (G.  Moreau,  Degas, 
Cheret,  Whistler,  Rops,  etc.)  Paris,  1889. 

INTERNATIONAL  SOCIETY  OF  SCULPTORS,  PAINTERS 
AND  ENGRAVERS:  "  Memorial  Exhibitions  of  the 
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Feb.  22nd  to  April  15th,  1905. 

ISHAM,  SAMUEL:  "  The  History  of  American  Paint- 
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KNOOR,  THOMAS:  "James  McNeill  Whistler,'* 
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KOEHLER,  SYLVESTER  ROSA:  "  Etching."  New  York, 
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256  Bibliography 


McFxLL,  HALDANE:  "  Whistler:  Butterfly,  Wasp, 
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McFALL,  HALDANE:  "Whistler."  Boston,  1906 
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MANSFIELD,  HOWARD  :  "  A  Descriptive  Catalogue  of 
the  etchings  and  drypoints  of  James  Abbott 
McNeill  Whistler."  Chicago,  Caxton  Club,  1909. 

MAUCLAIR,  C. :  "  De  Watteau  a  Whistler."  Paris, 
1905. 

MAcCoLL,  DONALD  STEWERT:  "Nineteenth  Century 
Art:  James  McNeill  Whistler."  Glasgow,  1902. 

McSpADDEN,  J.  WALKER:  "Famous  Painters  of 
America."  New  York,  1907. 

MENPES,  MORTIMER:  "  Whistler  As  I  Knew  Him." 
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MOORE,  GEORGE:  "Modern  Painting."  London, 
1898. 

MUTHER,  RICHARD:  "  A  History  of  Modern  Painters." 
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PATTISON,  JAMES  WILLIAM:  "  Painters  since  Leo- 
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PENNELL,  E.  R.  and  J.:  "The  Life  of  J.  McNeill 
Whistler."  London,  1908. 

ROSSETTI,  WILLIAM  MICHAEL:  "  Fine  Arts,  Chiefly 
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SINGER,  HANS  W.:  "  James  McNeill  Whistler."  Ber- 
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STUDIO:    "  Whistler  Portfolio."    London,  1905. 


Bibliography  257 


SYMONS,  ARTHUR:  "  Studies  in  Seven  Arts."  New 
York,  1906. 

RALPH,  THOMAS:  "  Catalogue  of  etchings  and  dry- 
points  of  J.  McNeill  Whistler."  London,  1874. 

TUCKERMAN,  H.  T. :  "  Book  of  Artists."  New  York, 
1867. 

VICTORIA  and  ALBERT  Museum:  "The  Etchings  of 
J.  McNeill  Whistler."  (Catalogue.)  London,  1905. 

VOSE,  GEORGE  L. :  "  Sketch  of  the  Life  of  George 
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1887. 

WAY,  THOMAS  R.:  "Whistler's  Lithographs."  Lon- 
don, 1896. 

WAY,  R.,  and  DENNIS,  G.  R.:    "  The  Art  of  J.  McN. 

Whistler:    An  Appreciation."    London,  1903. 

WEDMORE,  FREDERICK:  "  Whistler's  Etching;  A 
Study  and  A  Catalogue."  London,  1886. 

WEDMORE,  FREDERICK:  "  A  Note  on  Etchings  by 
Whistler,  Exhibited  at  the  Galleries  of  Obach 
and  Co."  London,  1903. 

WEDMORE,  FREDERICK:  "Four  Masters  of  Etching 
(Whistler,  Legros,  Seymour  Haden  and  Jacque- 
mart)."  London,  1883-89. 

WEDMORE,  FREDERICK:  "Whistler  and  Others"  (24 
Essays).  London  and  New  York,  1906. 

WHISTLER,  J.  McN.:  "Eden  v.  Whistler,"  "The 
Baronet  and  the  Butterfly,"  "  A  Valentine  with 
a  Verdict."  Paris,  1899. 


258  Bibliography 


WHISTLER,  J.  McN. :  "  The  Gentle  Art  of  Making 
Enemies."  London,  1890.  New  edition,  1892, 
includes  Whistler's  "  Ten  O'Clock." 

WHISTLER  v.  RUSKIN:  "  The  Painter  Etcher  Papers 
and  the  Nocturnes,  Marines  and  Chevalet 
Pieces." 

WHISTLER  v.  RUSKIN:  "  Nocturnes,  Marines  and 
Chevalet  Pieces."  London,  1892. 

WHISTLER  v.  RUSKIN:  "  Paddon  papers,  or  the  Owl 
and  the  Cabinet."  London,  1882. 

WHISTLER  v.  RUSKIN:    "  Piker  Papers." 

WHISTLER  ».  RUSKIN:  "  Mr.  Whistler's  Ten  O'Clock." 
London,  1888. 

WHISTLER  v.  RUSKIN:  "  Art  and  Art  Critics,"  "  The 
White  House."  Chelsea,  London,  December, 
1878. 

WHISTLER  v.  RUSKIN:  "  Whistler  Album  "  (20  photo- 
graphs). Paris,  1892. 

WHISTLER  v.  RUSKIN:  "  Wilde  v.  Whistler:  being  Acri- 
monious Correspondence."  London,  1896. 


PRINCIPAL  MAGAZINE  ARTICLES 


Alden,  W.  S Saturday  Review    .    .  Aug.  1903. 

Alexandra,  Arsene  .   .  Les  Arts Sept.  1903. 

American  Architect    .  Nov.  1887. 

Art  Journal    .    .    .    .  v.  49,  p.  10. 

Art  Journal    .    .    .    .  v.  52,  p.  198. 

Art  Journal    .    .   .   .  v.  49,  p.  298. 
Bacher,  Otto   ....  Century  Magazine     .  1902,  p.  100-111. 

Baldry,  A.  L The  Studio     ....  Sept.  1903. 

Beal,  S American  Architect  .  v.  81,  p.  91. 

Beerbohm,  Max  .    .    .  Metropolitan  ....  1904,  p.  728-733. 
Beerbohm,  Max  .    .    .  Saturday  Review  .    .  Nov.  1897. 
BeneMite,  Le"once    .    .  Gazette  des  beaux-arts  1905,  p.  33-34. 

Bloor,  A.J Critic 1903. 

Brinton,  Christian  .    .  Critic 1902. 

Brinton,  Christian  .    .  Munsey's  Magazine    .  1906. 
Brownell,  W.  C.  .    .    .  Scribner's  Magazine 


Boughton,  G.  H. 
Caffin,  Charles  H. 
Coburn,  Fred.  W. 
Cortissoz,  Royal 


International  Studio , 
International  Studio 
Brush  and  Pencil    . 
Atlantic  Monthly 


Cox,  Kenyon  ....  Nation  Magazine    . 
Crawford,  Earl  Stetson  The  Reader     .    .    . 
/ 

Current  Literature 

Dempsey,  Charles  W.    Magazine  of  Art     . 
Dempsey,  Charles  W.    McClure's  Magazine 
Dodgson,  Campbell 
Dowdeswell,  W.  .    . 


Dreyfus,  Albert 


Graphische  Ktinste 
American  Architect 
Kunst  f  iir  Alle  .  . 
Eclectic  Magazine 


Aug.  1879. 
1904,  p.  210-218. 

1903,  v.  20. 

1904,  v.  13. 
1903,    v.    92,  pp. 

826-838. 
1904  v.  78. 
1903,     v.     2,    pp 

387-390. 
Sept.  1903. 
1882,  p.  358. 
v.  7,  p.  374. 
1904. 

v.  22,  p.  258. 
1907. 

1903,    v.    10,    pp 
556-558. 


259 


260         Principal  Magazine  Articles 

Fenellosa,  Ernest  F.   .  Lotus  Magazine     .    .  1903. 
Finberg,  A.  J.      .    .    .  Athenaeum  Magazine    1902-3. 
Fortuny,  Pascal  .    .    .  Gazette  des  beaux-arts  1903,  v.  30. 
Fourcaud,  L.  de  .    .    .  Gazette  des  beaux-arts  June,  1884. 
Geffroy,  Gustave     .    .  Revue  Universelle     .  Sept.  1903. 
Hadley,  Frank  H.  .    .  Brush  and  Pencil   .    .   1903,  v.  12. 

Harper's  Weekly    .    .  Aug.  1903. 

Hartmann,  Sadakichi  Wilson's  Magazine  .  Apr.  1910. 
Hawthorne,  Julian  .  Independent  Magazine  Nov.  1899. 
Hubbard,  Elbert  .  .  Idler  Magazine  .  .  .  1903,  v.  23. 

International  Studio     1905,  v.  25. 

Jenney,  W.  L.  B.  .  .  American  Architect  .  v.  59,  p.  4. 
Jackson,  Louise  W.  .  Brush  and  Pencil  .  .  1908. 

Kelley,  G Western's  Magazine    .  v.  130. 

Kessler,  Harry  G.  .    .  Kunst  und  Ktinstler  .   1905. 
Knaufft,  Ernest  .    .    .  Churchman  Magazine   1903. 
Knaufft,  Ernest  .    .    .  Review  of  Reviews  .  v.  28,  p.  173. 
Kobbe,  Gustave      .    .  The  Chap  Book      .    .  1898. 

Kunst  und  Kunstler  .   1905. 

Kunst  und  Kunstler  .   1908. 
Levin,  Julius   ....   Illustrirte  Zeitung      .   1903. 

Living  Age      ....   1905,  v.  28  (v.  246). 
Losee,  William  F.   .    .   Brush  and  Pencil   .    .   1903,  v.  12. 
Ludovici,  A Art  Journal     ....   1906,  v.  68. 

Masters  in  Art    .    .    .  1907,  v.  8. 

Macfall,  H Academy v.  66,  p.  633. 

Mather,  Frank,  Jr.      .   World's  Work     .    .    .  1903. 

Matsuki,  Bunkio     .    .   Lotus  Magazine      .    .   1903. 

Mauclair,  Camille    .    .   Rev.  Polit.  and  Litter.  1903,  v.  20. 

Mans,  Octave  ....   International  Studio     1904,  v.  23. 

Meier-Graefe,  Julius   .  Die  Zukunft  ....  1903. 

Menpes,  Dorothy    .    .  International  Studio     1904,   v    20,    pp. 

245-257. 
Menpes,  Mortimer  .    .  Cornhill  Magazine      .   1903,  v.  15. 

McColl,  D.  S Art  Journal     .    .    .    .  v.  15,  p.  88. 

McColl,  D.  S Saturday  Review  .    .  v.  13,  p.  357. 

Meynell,  Wilfred     .    .   Pall  Mall  Magazine    .   1903,  v.  31. 


Principal  Magazine  Articles 


261 


Morton,  Fred.  W. 
Mulliken,  Mary  A. 
Muster,  John  de 

Patini,  Rinaldo  . 
Pennell,  Joseph  . 
Pennell,  Joseph  . 
Pennell,  Joseph  . 


Pennington,  Harper 
Pennington,  Harper 
Princep,  Val  .  .  . 
Quilter,  Harry  .  . 


Rosenhagen,  Hans 

Scott,  William  .  . 
Sickert,  Bernhard  . 
Sickert,  Oswald  .  . 
Sickert,  Oswald  .  . 
Sickert,  Walker  .  . 
Sketchley,  R.  E.  D. 
Smalley,  Phoebe  J. 
Spielmann,  M.  H.  . 

Swinburne,  A.  C.  . 

Swinburne,  A.  C.  . 

Teall,  Gardner  C.  . 

Thompson,  D.     .  . 

Wedmore,  Fred. 

Way,  Thomas  R.  . 
Wuerpel,  G.  H.  .  . 
Wilson,  T 


1903,  v.  12. 
1905,  v.  25. 
1907,  v.  33. 
1903,  pp. 149-151. 
1909,  v.  140. 
1903,  v.  3. 


.  Brush  and  Pencil  .  . 
.  International  Studio 
.  Elseviers  Geillust  .  . 
The  Nation  .... 
.  Nuova  antologia  .  . 
.  Burlington  Magazine 

Nation v.  54 ,  p.  280. 

North    American    Re- 
view    1903,  v.  177. 

Scribner's  Magazine      v.  21,  p.  277. 

International  Quar'ly   1904,  v.  10,  No.l. 
.  Metropolitan  Magazine  1910,  pp.  769-776. 

Magazine  of  Art      .    .   1903. 
.  Chamber's  Magazine      1903,  v.  66. 

Revista  Latino  Ameri- 
cana      1903,  v.  1. 

Nord  und  Siid    .    .    .  1909,  v.  130. 

Saturday  Review  .    .  v.  3  p.  208. 

International  Studio     1903,  pp.  97-107. 

Burlington  Magazine 

International  Studio 

Kunst  und  Kiinstler  . 

Fortnightly  Review  . 

Kunst  und  Kiinstler 

The  Lamp v.  27,  p.  110. 

Magazine  of  Art     .    .   Nov.  1903,  pp.  69- 
70. 

Fortnightly  Review  .  v.  49,  p.  745. 

Ecclesiastic  Magazine  v.  Ill,  p.  154. 

The  Bookman    . 

Art  Journal     .    . 

Academy v.  23,  p.  134. 

19th  CenturyMagazine  1904,  v.  21. 

Knowledge      .    .    .    .  v.  3,  p.  208. 

International  Studio     1903. 

Independent  .    .    .    .  v.  56,  p. 131. 

Book  Buyer  .  .  .  .  v.  17,  p.  113. 


1905,  v.  6. 
1903,  v.  21. 
1903,  v.  1. 
v.  54,  p.  243. 

1906,  v.  4. 


1903,  pp. 265-268. 
1903,  v.  55. 


PRINCIPAL  PAINTINGS* 

La  Fumette p.  1859. 

Self-portrait (S.  P.  Avery,  Esq.)  .    .   p.  1859. 

La  Mere  Gerard p.  1859. 

The  Music  Room  .    .    .  (Frank  J.  Hecker,  Esq.)  p.  1860. 

The  Woman  in  White  .   (J.  H.  Whittemore,  Esq.)  p.  1863  e.  1863. 

Lange   Leizen   of    Six 

Marks:  In  Purple  and 

Rose (John  G.  Johnson,  Esq.)  p.  1864  e.  1864. 

Harmony  in  Purple  and 

Gold:    The     Golden 

Screen (Chas.  W.  Freer,  Esq.)     p.  1864  e.  1865 

Symphony  in  White  II: 

The  Little  White  Girl  (Arthur  Studd,  Esq.)      .  p.  and  e.  1864. 
Symphony  in  White  III  (E.  Davis,  Esq.)  .... 
At  the  Piano    ....   (E.  Davis,  Esq.)     .    .    .   p.  1859  e.  1867. 
La   Princesse  du  Pays 

de  la  Porcelaine    .    .    (Chas.  W.  Freer,  Esq.)    .  p.  1864  e.  1865. 
On  the  Balcony:  Har- 
mony in  Flesh  Colour 

and  Green (Chas.  W.  Freer,  Esq.)  .  e.  1866. 

Self-portrait (George McCullough, Esq.)  p.  1867. 

Arrangement  in  Black:   (Chas.  W.  Freer,  Esq.)      e.  1873 

F.  R.  Leyland. 
Arrangement  in  Brown 

and  Gold (J.  J.  Cowan,  Esq.)   .   . 

*p.  indicates  when  picture  was  painted,  or  started,  as  it 
sometimes  took  Whistler  more  than  ten  years  to  finish  a  picture ; 
e.  indicates  when  first  exhibited.  Dates  and  ownership  are 
omitted  whenever  author  failed  to  verify  facts. 

262 


Principal  Paintings  263 

Woman  in  Gray  .    .    .    (Riks  Museum,  Amster- 
dam) 

Lady  in  Gray    ....  (Metropolitan     Museum, 
New  York)      .... 

L'Andalusienne     .    .    .   (John  H.  Whittemore,  Esq.) 

p.  about  1894. 

Arrangement  in  Black 
and  Brown:  Miss 
Rose  Corder  .  .  .  (R.  A.  Canfield,  Esq.)  .  p.  1876  e.  1881. 

The  Peacock  Room  .    .   (Chas,  W.  Freer,  Esq.)      1876. 

Arrangement  in  Black 
and  Brown:  The  Fur 

Jacket (William  Burrell,  Esq.)  p.  1876. 

Americaine p.  1876  e.  1878. 

Florence  Leyland      .    .   (Brooklyn  Institute, 

New  York) p.  1876  e.  1878. 

Arrangement   in    Gray 

and  Black:    Thomas  (City  Art  Galleries,  Glas- 

Carlyle gow) p.  1872  e.  1877. 

Sir    Henry   Irving   as 

Philip  II e.  1877. 

Arrangement  in  Gray 
and  Black:  The  Ar- 
tist's Mother  .  .  .  (Luxembourg  Gallery)  p.  1871  e.  1881. 

Arrangement  in  Gray 
and  Green:  Miss 
Alexander  .  .  .  .  (W.  C.  Alexander,  Esq.)  p.  1872  e.  1881. 

Arrangement  in  Black 
and  White:  Lady  Meux       p.  1877  e.  1884. 

Harmony  in  Pink  and 

Gray:  Lady  Meux e.  1882. 

Theodore  Duret e.  1883. 

Arrangement  in  Black: 
Lady  Archibald  Camp- 
bell   (Wilstach  Gallery, Phila.)  e.  1883. 

Mrs.  Louis  Huth p.  1877  e.  1884. 


264  Principal  Paintings 

Arrangement  in  Black: 

Mme.  Cassatt .    .    .    .  e.  1855. 

Arrangement  in  Black:  (Carnegie  Art  Institute, 

Pablo  Sarasate      .    .       Pittsburg,  Pa.)  .    .    .  p.  1884  e.  1886. 
Harmony      in      Ivory: 

Lady  Colin  Campbell e.  1866. 

Arrangement    in   Violet 

and     Rose:      Mme. 

Walter  Sickert e.  1887. 

Arrangement    in    Black 
and  Gold:     Comte  de 

Montesquiou     ...      (R.  A.  Canfield,  Esq.)  e.  1891. 
The    Master    Smith    of 

Lyme  Regis  ....   (Boston  Museum)      .    .  e.  1895. 
Little    Rose    of    Lyme 

Regis      (Boston  Museum)  .    .    .  e.  1895. 

Full  length  Self-portrait  (G.W.Vanderbilt,Esq.)  e.  1900. 


NOCTURNES 

The  majority  of  Nocturnes  were  painted  during  the  years  1866-1884. 

Nocturne  in  Blue  and  Gold:   Valpa- 
raiso   p.  1866e.l871.    (Chas.W. 

Freer,  Esq.) 

Symphony  in  Gray  and  Green:  The 

Ocean p.  1871.    (R.  A.  Canfield, 

Esq.) 

Crepuscule  in  Flesh  (Dolor  and  Green: 

Valparaiso p.  1871. 

Nocturne  in  Blue  and  Silver:  Batter-  p.  1877.    (Chas.  W.  Freer, 
sea  Reach Esq.) 

Nocturne  in  Blue  and  Silver       ...   p.  1877. 

Nocturne  in  Blue  and  Gold:  OldBat- 
tersea  Bridge (Tate  Gallery,  London.) 

Nocturne:  Trafalgar  Square,  Snow. 

Nocturne  in  Blue  and  Silver:  Bognor.    (Chas.W. Freer,  Esq.) 

Nocturne  in  Opal   and  Silver:    The 
Music  Room. 

Nocturne  in  Gray  and  Gold :  Chelsea, 
Snow. 

Nocturne  in  Gray  and  Gold:     West- 
minster Bridge. 

Nocturne  in  Blue  and  Gold:    South- 
ampton Waters (Art  Institute,  Chicago.) 

Nocturne  in  Brown  and  Silver:     Old 
Battersea  Bridge. 

Nocturne   in   Blue    and    Gold:      St. 
Mark's,  Venice. 

Pink  and  Gray:    Chelsea (Lord  Battersea), 

265 


266  Nocturnes 


Nocturne  in   Black  and    Gold:    The   p.  187   (Mrs.    S.   Unter- 

Falling  Rocket       myer) 

Cremorne  Gardens (Metropolitan     Museum, 

N.Y.) 
An  Orange  Note:    Sweet  Shop. 


INDEX 


Abbey,  Edwin  A.,  37 
Adam  and  Eve  Tavern,  153 
Adams,  Clifford,  72 
Alexander,    Portrait    of    Miss, 

109,    124,    137-138,    139, 

238 
"  Americaine,  La  Belle,  "   134, 

237,  238 
Appian,  152 
Amsterdam  Canal,  154 
Annual  Review  at  Spithead,  157 
Armstrong,  219 
Arrangements,   21,   116,   129 
Artist's  Mother,  Portrait  of  the, 

8,  21,  29,  31,  41,  76,  90, 

109,    124,   136,   137,   143, 

144-146,  176,  234 
At  the  Piano,  3,  17,  122-123 
Aubrey,  110 
Avery,  S.  P.,  219 

Bacher,  Otto  H.,  155-156,  221 

Balleroy,  De,  17 

Balzac,    94 

Barber,  The,  158 

Batter  sea  Bridge,  153 

Baudelaire,  17 

Bayliss,   Wyke,   190 

Becquet,  153 

"  Belle  Dame  Paresseuse,  La," 

175 

"  Belle  New-Yorkaise,  La,"  175 
Besnard,  85,  89 
Bing,   45 

Binyon,  Laurence,  210 
Blue  Wave,  The-,    Biarritz,  42 
Bocklin,  69 
Bognor,  40 
Boldini,  138,  230,  236 


Bonvin,  17 
Bracquemond,  17,  18 
Burne-Jones,  72,  193,  236 
Butterfly  Monogram,  The,  39- 
41,  56-57 

Cadogan  Pier,  162 

Campbell,     Portrait    of    Lady 

Archibald,    3,    4,    5,    27, 

124,  128,  137,  238 
Canaletto,    151 
Canfield,  R.  A.,  73,  128 
Caprice,  177 
Caprices,  21 
Caravaggio,  93 

Carlyle,  Thomas,  23,  110,  138 
Carlyle,  Portrait  of  Thomas,  8, 

76,  109,  136,  137,  143,  144 
Carriere,  69,  90,  96 
Carte,  D'Oyle,  110 
Casanova,  196 

Cassatt,  Portrait  of  Mme.,  124 
Cazin,  18,  68,  69 
Cellini,  Benvenuto,  196,  231 
Cernuschi,  45 
CSzanne,  247 
Champfleury,  17 
Chandler,  Rob,  104 
Chardin,  87 

Chase,  William  M.,  191,  201 
Chavannes,  55,  68,  69,  76,  202, 

204 

Chelsea,  3,  70, 153 
Cheret,  47 
Chevalet  Pieces,  29 
Chevreul,  87 
Child,  Theodore,  191 
Church,  F.  E.,  76 
Cimabue,  35 


267 


268 


Index 


Clews,  247 

Colarossi,  42 

Collins,  Wilkie,  187 

"  Confidences  dans  le  Jar  din, 

Les,"  175 

Constable,  90,  134,  203 
Corder,  Portrait  of  Rose,   124, 

128-129,  137 
Cordier,  17 
Corot,  69 

Courbet,  17,  18,  42,  43,  64,  79 
"  Cuisine,  La,"  149 

Dabo,  Leon,  34,  90 

Dagnan-Bouveret,  69 

Dam  Wood,  T'he,  162 

Dancing  Girl,  173 

Dannat,  84 

Daubigny,  75 

David;  78 

Dawson,  Daniel,  242 

Degas,  18,  85,  87,  89 

Delacroix,  17,  87,  133 

Delaroche,  78 

Delatre,  166 

Delonney,  150 

Denton,  Watts,  221 

Doorway,   154 

Drouet,  219 

Drouet,  Portrait  of,  153 

Du  Maurier,  16,  192,  218,  219 

Duran,  Carolus,  33 

Duranty,  17 

Diirer,  147,  148,  203 

Duret,  Theodore,  37,  125,  173 

Duret,    Portrait    of    Theodore, 

124,    136,    137,   138,   139, 

143 
Duveneck,  Frank,  190 

Eden,  Sir  William,  190,  191 

Elsheimer,   94 

Etchings,   7,   27,   28,   66,    116, 

149-154,     158-162,     166- 

167 

Eugenie,  Empress,  16,  18 
Early  Morning,  175 


Falling  Rocket,  The,  24,  58-60 
Fantin-Latour,  13, 16,  17,  172, 
229 

Flaubert,  80 

Ford,  Sheridan,  30,  100,  182, 

195 

Fortuny,  236 
Fragonard,  133 
France,  Anatole,  208 
Freer,  Charles  W.,  36,  37,  50, 

229 

Frith,  W.  P.,  191 
Fromentin,  186 
Fuller,  239 
Fumette,  17 
Fur  Jacket,  The,  124.  128,  137, 

238 

Gainsborough,  138,  203 

Garden,  The,  66,  151 

"  Gentle  Art  of  Making  Ene- 
mies, The,"  8,  30,  40,  182 

Girl  on  a  Couch,  153 

Gleyre,  Charles,  12,  41^2 

Godwin,  Edwin  W.,  8,  37 

Golden  Screen,  The,  50,  51 

Goncourt,  Edmond  and  Jules 
de,  45,  80,  206 

Goya,  79 

Gozzolli,    124,   125 

Grain,  Corney,  108 

Grand  Gallery  of  the  Louvre, 
The,  174 

Gray,  Walter,  226 

Greaves,  227 

Guimet,  45 

Guthrie,  Sir  James,  37 

Haden,  F.  Seymour,  9,  17,  44, 

122,  155,  190 
Hals,  Franz,  79,  91,  122,  134, 

141 

Hamerton,  P.  G.,  153,  190 
Harmonies,  21,  28,  29,  44,  116, 

118,  129,  178 
Harpignies,  18 
Harrison,  Alexander,  225 
Harunobu,  147,  148 


Index 


269 


Hawkins,  C,  R.,  191,  235 
Hawthorne,  247 
Hecker,  Frank  J.,  44 
Heffernan,  Joanna,  51-52 
Heine,  Heinrich,  49,  151 
Hellew,  230 
Helmholtz,  87 
Henley,   Portraits  of  Mr.  and 

Mrs.  W.  E.,  176 
Henner,  69,  93 
Henri,  Robert,  91,  247 
Heyse,  Paul,  206 
Herrick,  172 

Hiroshige,  40,  51,  53,  62,  66,  67 
Hogarth,  37,  203 
Hokusai,  148 
Homer,  Winslow,  239 
Horsley,  R.  A.,  177 
Hdtel  de  Ville  at  Loches,  151 
House    Beautiful,    see    White 

House 

Huddleston,  Judge,  194 
Huth,   Portrait    of  Mrs.,   124, 

137 

Ingres,  12,  64,  78,  147 

Inness,   201 

lonides,  Luke,  218 

Irving  as  Philip  II.,  Portrait 

of  Sir  Henry,  124,  136 
Israels,  64,  134,  202,  236 

Jacquemart,    152 
Jameson,  Mrs.,  220 
Jo,  52,  153 
Johnson,  John  G.,  49 
Jongkind,  18 
Julian,  42 

Keene,  Charles,  195 
Kennedy,   192 
Khnopff,  90 
Kiyonaga,  46 
Khnger,  153 

Lalanne,  152 
Lalouette,  Madame,  13 
Lange-Leizen  of  the  Six  Marks, 

49,  50 
Lannion,  A,  178 


Lautrec,  Toulouse,  47 
Lavery,  John,  37,  90 
Legros,  13,  16,  17,  191 
Leighton,  Sir  Frederick,  64,  69, 

191,  192,  193 
Lenbach,  83,  236 
Leonardo  da  Vinci,  16,  79,  90, 

92 

Lessing,  186 
Leyland,  F.  R.,  9,  22,  54,  103, 

104,    105,  157,    190,   211, 

223 
Leyland,  Portrait  of  Florence, 

124,   129-130,   134,.  139 
Leyland,  Portrait  of  F.  R.,  124, 

127-128,  140,   143 
Lime  Burner,  The,  66 
Lindsey,  Sir  Coutts,  193,  194, 
Lion's  Wharf,  153 
Lithographs,  8,  27,  29,  172-178 
Little  Mast,  The,  158 
Little  Nude  Reading,  The,  178 
Little  Pool,  The,  162 
Little  Rose  of  Lyme  Regis,  175 
Little  Venice,  151 
Little  Wapping,  162 
Little  While  Girl,  The,  49,  52- 

53,  123 
Locksmith  of  the  Dragon  Square, 

The,   175 

London  Bridge,  158 
Long  Lagoon,  The,  162 
Lorraine,  Claude,  151 
Ludovici,  A,  224 
Luks,  247 
Luxembourg  Gardens,  The,  174 

"  Maison  Jaune,  La,"  178 
"  Maison    Rouge   a   Paimpol, 

La,"  178 
Makart,  134 
Mallarm^,  Ste'phane,  176,  206, 

209 
Mallarme,  Portrait  of  Stephane, 

175-176 
Mancini,  247 
Manet,  17,  18,  19,  87,  90,  141, 

204,    243 


270 


Index 


Mantz,  Paul,  19 

"  Marchande  de  Moutarde,  La," 

149 

Marines,  29 
Maris,  71,  247 
Martin,  Homer,  239 
Master  Smith,  The,  175 
"  Maud,"  110 
Maupassant,  Guy  de,  206 
Max,  Gabriel,  124 
McCullough,  George,  229 
Memling,  133 
Menpes,    Mortimer,    195,    197, 

222 

Meredith,  George,  3,  23 
"  Mere  Gerard,  La,"  17,  149 
Meux,  Portraits  of  Lady,   27, 

124,  133,  137 
Meyrion,  153,  154 
Millais,   193 

Model  resting,  The,  153,  178 
Monet,   75,   79,  87,   90,    141, 

142,  204,  244 
Montesquieu      de      Fezensac, 

Comte,  195,  237 
Montesquiou  de  Fezensac,  Por- 
traits of  Comte,   27,   142- 

143,  176 

Monticelli,  136,  247 
Moore,  Albert,  229 
Moore,  George,  191 
Morning  Call,  The,  see  Music 

Room,  The 

Morris,  William,  100-102 
Murger  .Henri,  13 
Music  Room,  The,  42,  44 

Napoleon  III,  18 

Nocturnes,  21,  24-25,  28,  29, 

40,  59-61,  67,  71-80,  118, 

193,  226-228 
Notes,  21,  28,  29,  118 

Ocean,  The,  39,  67 

Old  Battersea  Bridge,  3,  59,  67, 

70 
Old  Hungerford  Bridge,  162 


On  the  Balcony  (Terrace),  50, 

54-55,  70,  154 
Outomaro,  46,  49,  54,  64 

Palace,   154 
Palmer,  Emma,  216 
Pantheon,   174 
Pastels,  7,  28,  178-179 
Peacock    Room,    21,    54,    103, 

104-105,  211 
Peladan,  Me>odack,  147 
Pelligrini,  Carlo,  195 
Pennell,  Joseph,  105,  125,  139, 

153,    157,    166-167,    196, 

216,  226,  229,  230 
Pennell,  Portraits  of  Afr.  and 

Mrs.  Joseph,  176 
Pennington,  Harper,  107,  211 
"  Pepys'  Diary,"  9 
Philip,  John  Bernie,  8 
Philip,  Portrait  of  Miss,   176 
Pinturicchio,  133 
Pissaro,  18 
Poe,  Edgar  Allan,  11 
Pool,  The,  151 
Price's  Candle  Works,  151 
Princess  of  the  Porcelain  Land, 

50,  54,  65,  103,  123 
Prinsep,  Val,  191,  223 
Prudhon,  93 


Quilter,  Harry,   113-114,   190 


Raffaelli,  Jean  Francois,  6,  86, 

124,  153 

Raphael,  91,  147,  246 
Regamey,  45 
Reid,  247 
Rembrandt,  18,  79,  81,  82,  91, 

95,  98>  149,  152,  199,  203, 

246 

Renoir,    89,    95,    247 
Ribera,  93 
Ribot,  16,  134 
Riva,  The,  158 
Robertson,  Graham,  128 


Index 


271 


Rodin,  94 

Rood,  Ogden,  87 

Rops,  153 

Rossetti,    Dante   Gabriel,   23, 

34,  54,  191,  221 
Rossetti,  W.  M.,  103,  228 
Rossi,  Mme.  Carmen,  33 
Rousseau,   75 
Rowley,  219 
Roybet,    134 
Rubens,  13,  65,  133,  219 
Ruskin,  John,   24,   58-60,   72, 

87,  117,  151,  177,  193-194 
Ryder,  71,  201 

San  Biagio,  151 

Sarasate,   Pablo  de,    22,   110, 

113,  195 
Sarasate,  Portrait  of  Pablo  de, 

27,  97,  124,  136,  139-140, 

145 

Sargent,  84, 141,  201 
Scene  in  Alsatian  Village,  150 
Schalcken,  82 
Segantini,  236,  247 
Sharaku,  46 
Shunsho,  46 

Sickert,  Portrait  of  Walter,  176 
Silent  Canal,  The,  153 
Singer,  H.  W.,  196 
"  Soupe  a  Trois  Sous,"  153 
Southampton  Docks,  153 
Southampton  Water,  70 
Spartali,  Christie,  54 
Spencer,  Herbert,  85 
Starr,  Sidney,  140 
Steichen,  94 

Stevens,  42,  43-44,   103,   123 
St.  Mark's,  Venice,  70 
Stott,  191 

Street  at  Saverne,  150 
Studd,  Arthur,  49 
Sutherland,  106 
Swinburne,  23,  53,191 
Symphony  in  White,  A,  19,  42, 

50,  189,  see  also  Woman 

in  White 
Symphonies,  21,  39,  40,  42 


Tadema,  Alma,  42 

Taine,  H.,  81 

Tanyu,  148 

Tarbell,  247 

Taylor,  Tom,  190 

"  Ten  O'clock,"  8,  61,  182, 186, 

198-200,  251 
Terborg,  93 

Thayer,  Abbott,  201,  239 
Thomas,  Percy,  225 
Thomas,  Ralph,  229 
Thompson,  Sir  H.,  22 
Tintoretto,  65 
Tissot,  12,  95,  133,  134 
Titian,  65,  81,  91,  95,  130,  133, 

168 

Tryon,  68,  69 
Turner,  75,  87,  151 

Unsafe  Tenement,  153 

Valparaiso  Harbour,  20-21,  59, 

70 

Vanderbilt,  George  W.,  37,  230 
Van  der  Heist,  18 
Van  Dyke,  79,  82,  122 
Van  Rensselaer,   Mrs.  Schuy- 

ler,  167 
Variations,  21 
Velasquez,    11,   42,  79,  95,  97, 

124-125,    132,     134,   142, 

192,  203,  231,  243 
Velvet  Dress,  The,  163 
Vermeer,  18 
Vernet,  78 

Veronese,  168, 169,  246 
Veyrasset,  153 

"  Vieitle  aux  Logues,  La,"  149 
View  on  the  Thames,  173 
Vollon,  18 

Watteau,  87 

Way,  Thomas,  174,  176,  229 

Wedmore,  Frederick,  166,  174, 

190 

Westminster  Bridge,.  70 
Whistler-  George  Washington, 

9-11 


272 


Index 


Whistler,  James  (Abbott)  Mc- 

Neill 
Private  Life,  8-38,  214-218, 

234 

Birth,  9 
Youth,  9-11 
Marriage,  8,  32 
In  Russia,  10-11 
At  West  Point,  11-12,  16 
Student  Life  in  Paris,  12-17, 

41-43 
In  London,  6-7,  17,  19,  21- 

26,  27,  36-37 
In  Paris,  6-7,  19,  28-36 
In  Venice,  7,  26-27,  151-152 
In  Holland,  7,  18,  36 
In  South  America,  20-21,  74 
Financial  Difficulties,  26-27 
His  Art  School,  33-35 
Japanese  Influence,  45-57 
Butterfly  Monogram,  39-41, 

56-57 
Whistler's  Portraits  of  Himself, 

219,  228-230 


Whistler,  William,  214 
White  Girl,  The,  see  Symphony 

in  White,  A 
White  House,  The,  8,  22-23, 

106-109,   113 
White,  Stanford,  118 
Whitman,  204 
Whittemore,  John  G.,  50 
Wilde,  Oscar,  25-26,  192 
Wine  Glass,  The,  153 
Woman  in  White,  49,  52,  123, 

186-187,  229 
Wuerpel,  E.  H.,  28 

Yacht  Race,  The,  188 

Yellow  Btiskin,  The,  see  Camp- 
bell, Portrait  of  Lady  Ar- 
chibald 

Young,  87 

Zaandam,  158 

Zola,  19 

Zorn,  84,  141,  153 


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